Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

‘The escapees, who are they?’

‘I’ve got a list right here.’

‘Read it to me if you could.’

‘Michael Scofield, structural engineer, five years for armed robbery. Benjamin Miles Franklin, former U.S. Army, eight years for possession of stolen goods. John Abruzzi, don of the crime family of the same name, life without parole for conspiracy to commit murder. Charles “Haywire” Patoshik, 60 years for second-degree murder. Fernando Sucre, five years for aggravated robbery. David “Tweener” Apolskis, five years for grand larceny. Theodore “T-Bag” Bagwell, life for six counts for kidnapping, rape and first-degree murder. And Lincoln Burrows, scheduled to die next week for the murder of President Reynold’s brother.’

‘How long has it been since they got over the wall?’

‘8:00 last night.’

‘Scofield--- he and Burrows were brothers.’

‘That’s right.’

‘And he is the mastermind of this whole thing… I want everything they’ve got on him.’

‘On it.’

Alexander Mahone let a deep breath out. Eight convicts were running around, spread out in the streets of Chicago, and probably on the verge of crossing state lines. When his eyes laid upon Scofield’s file, his mind started creating what he liked to call, “spider webs”. There was a reason why they called him for this. The plan, the timing, the execution… it was all part of something bigger, and he was the only one who could possibly figure it out.

Well, he and Jones.

He turned around to see her. He heard some of his new colleagues at the FBI Field Office in Chicago gushing and gossiping about the new agent in charge and his “bodyguard”. He almost laughed at the thought. Alexandria Jones was more than someone who carried a gun (several, if we are honest) and positioned herself on his left side. After all his years in the Bureau, he had learned only one thing: she was the only person he truly trusted.

Jones’ inexpressive gaze was set upon the photographs of Scofield’s tattoos. She had also heard the comments made about her appearance and role in the operation, but she had better things to do. The duo arrived early that morning, and installed at their designated office. They were truly a spectacle to the sight: he was tall, with a lean, athletic build, a product of his military background and years of active work in law enforcement. His face was sharp and angular, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline. Probably his most distinctive feature was his piercing blue eyes, with a hawk-like intensity that could intimidate almost everyone.

On the other hand, she was smaller than him but equally strong, even stronger than she wanted to admit. Her posture was always straight and immovable, her hands clasped behind her back, ready for action at any moment. Unlike his inclination towards well-tailored suits, Jones often opted for entirely dark clothing: black blouses with long sleeves and a turtle neck, cargo black pants, military boots, black suspenders, and black-leather gloves. She would reluctantly wear a suit like Alex’s in more formal or official events. Perhaps her most identifiable feature was her long black hair, tied in a tight bun at the base of her neck. Her eyes were green, although regular folks wouldn’t tell because of the black shades that often hid them. If you knew that “fun” fact, that meant that you had gotten too close, and you were probably dead now… or you were Alexander Mahone. After all her years in the Bureau, she had learned only one thing: he was the only person she truly trusted.

Agent Lang was in charge of welcoming them and showing them around. She immediately noticed their weird connection and mannerisms: they walked at the same pace, examining the room in the same pattern, and she could’ve sworn they nodded at the same time whenever she told them something new about the office. Perhaps she had watched many sci-fi movies lately, but she had never seen a mental connection like that before. That’s why she found it weird that Mahone had to fill special paperwork so that Jones was included in the operation. The FBI had only told the office he was the new one in charge but never mentioned her.

‘They come in one package. Mahone refuses to work without her since she arrived at the Bureau. So he has this weird arrangement that he has to be responsible for Jones’ actions around so she can participate in the operations.’ Agent Wheeler, who had previously worked with both of them in Colorado, told her.

‘So technically speaking, her boss is him, not the FBI.’

‘Something like that... I know what you are thinking; it’s odd, but hey, they get the job done.’

Wheeler meant to say something along the lines of “creepy” or “outrageous”, but he bit his tongue just in time. Having worked with them for about two years, he knew Jones and Mahone always had something between hands. When you worked in the government, there was always confidential going on, and he learned very quickly that they were in charge of the not-so-pretty part. In other words, he was almost sure that illegal things had happened there, but he needed to be quiet and pretend like nothing had happened.

‘I called the tattoo artist, and I’m starting with the sketches from the photographs.’

‘Good, good. We also need to go and talk with Officer Bellick, see where he and his men failed.’

‘On it.’

She would always drive. That allowed Alexander to organize his ideas and take important calls. On the other hand, she took that time to strategize and memorize the roads they would take in case they needed to retrace their steps. There was never something improvised about their actions. And no one really understood how they were so well communicated. But as Wheeler mentioned, they always get the job done. Well, except for one.

Chapter Text

There were moments when Alexander wished that Jones would take charge of the operations; in that way, he wouldn’t have to deal with so many assholes each day. But their dynamic was clear from the beginning: he was the face of the missions, the one who did the press conferences and the talking, and the one who had to deal with people like Brad Bellick. Not only the useless policeman was uncooperative, but Mahone noticed right away that Scofield was a hundred steps past him. But it was just a matter of time for Mahone to be a hundred and one steps closer to finding the escapees.

He turned to look at her. She was furiously drawing on her sketchbook, methodically copying Scofield’s tattoos on the paper. He didn’t know when or how she learned to draw that way, but it didn’t matter. Occasionally, she would look at him, or rather to Bellick, giving him one of her signature death stares.

‘Anything?’

‘Nothing, he seems too confident.’

‘So it’s up to us. We contacted the tattoo artist; she’ll be at the station.’

‘After that, we need to go to Scofield’s apartment.’

‘Noted.’

‘How are you doing with those sketches?’

‘Almost done.’

He knew he was starting to obsess with Scofield, which, by experience, was never a good sign. But something about that structural engineer with tattoos covering almost his entire body didn’t sit well with him. And if he was as bright as people said, every mundane evidence could be the key to destroying all his plans.

Fortunately for him, the tattoo artist was a very cooperative person. He got a better image of Scofield’s personality and was convinced that the tattoos were more relevant to the story than just a form of expression. Just as the young woman left, Jones appeared through the door with the drawing ready.

‘I thought that it would take you longer.’

‘I didn’t want to waste our time. I took out the larger designs and was left with something familiar.’

‘It’s a map.’

‘Of Fox River. He had everything there, but that’s not what caught my attention. If you are someone so smart to have everything planned to escape, you don’t stop when you are out of the gate.’

‘He knew what to do before, during, and after.’

Mahone took another look at the pictures. At first sight, they were nonsense drawings, words scribbled together in a gothic font, numbers here and there. One particular set of words caught his attention: English, Fitz, and Percy.

‘What was the road we took to get to the Prison?’

‘English Street, intersecting with Fitz and Percy.’

‘One tattoo down, several to go.’ He said, hanging the picture on the board in front of them.

‘What we need to figure out is the order of events. I want to think that when he designed the tattoos, he had some sort of system, a code.’

‘I think we both know what to search for in the apartment.’

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The emptiness of the room made him chuckle. Crime scenes like that excited his heart, and his brain formed spider webs at the speed of light. He immediately noticed the small holes on the wall, the product of several pins that once sustained papers, pictures, and more information that needed to be displayed as a whole. Information regarding a plan. He chuckled again because it was the same thing he liked to do. To be fair, Scofield did a great job: there were no papers left behind, not even tape residues or anything incriminating. Mahone watched as the other agents and detectives searched around the room for more evidence, but he knew it would be useless.

He hated the people that the bureau assigned to him. There were far too many individuals in that room when in reality, he only needed one. His blue eyes scanned the room for her. Unlike the rest of their “team,” she wasn’t frantically searching in every corner of the apartment for clues. She was immobile, watching through the window to a panoramic view of Chicago. As he approached, he noticed the small movement she made for him. It was very subtle, but Mahone was an expert in reading her; they almost needed no words to communicate, which was helpful because Alexandria would rarely say more than five words out loud in public. At close quarters, it was a different story, of course. He turned his gaze to where she directed. At least someone was using their brain that morning.

‘I want divers down in the river.’

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As they approached the storage facility in Oswego, they could already tell that the operation would fail. There were too many cops surrounding the storage unit where allegedly the Fox River’s eight members were hiding; they were making a lot of noise, and there were not enough people checking the surroundings. Alexandria tapped the stirring wheel impatiently while Mahone did the talking. She knew that there were protocols they needed to follow, and collaboration with the local police was mandatory. But she wanted to analyze the tattoos more and decipher the hidden messages. They were at Scofield’s apartment when they received the news about the new clue and left in a rush. The only picture she could take with her read, “RIPE CHANCE WOODS”.

‘I hate him as well, don’t worry…’ Alexander said as he climbed into the car.

‘Not worried. Angry.’

‘Still nothing on this place?’

The small wrinkle that formed between her eyebrows was enough to tell Alexander that she was thinking. He continued scribbling on his notepad, trying to find if RIPE CHANCE WOODS was an acronym, a hidden message, some encrypted coordinates, but nothing was coming up. She looked down at the paper occasionally, but the wrinkle wouldn’t fade. They both knew that they weren’t on the right track on that one.

‘Are we sure it is a place?’

Just as those words came out of her mouth, an officer approached them. As predicted, Bellick’s operative failed, but that didn’t interest Mahone. The last name on the police officer’s tag made his spider webs tense.

‘Oh, that kid is clever. It’s not a place, it’s a name.’

‘I’ve never heard the name Ripe before unless…’

It was one of those rare moments when Jones took off her sunglasses. Blue observed green intensely, and a whole conversation was happening between those eyes. The wrinkle finally disappeared. A slight smirk appeared on Mahone’s lips.

‘Let’s go to the cemetery.’

The tombstone was simple yet pretty. Also, it was obvious that it had just recently been profaned. The dirt was unevenly distributed, and it looked freshly moved. Alexander was honestly mesmerized by the cleverness of the ex-convict plan. He turned to look to Alexandria to see if she was, well, okay.

Despite her inexpressive face he could tell she was more tense than usual. She didn’t like cemeteries. Her eyes were fixed on the white cross across from the E. Chance Woods tombstone. He wondered if she would touch it this time, but her hands were tightly placed on each side of her body. He noticed some movement in the trees; it could’ve as well been a bird or a squirrel, but if his timing were correct, the most probable answer would be a man. He moved closer to Jones. Normally, she would snap out of it pretty quickly, but again, she hadn’t gotten this close before. He knew that she would often “feel” him close, and that would be enough, but he decided to go with words for a faster result.

‘Brie.’ He said, his voice merely a whisper. ‘Brie.’

A second sound alerted them both. At the same time, their hands reached for their guns, and with a slight nod, they began moving closer to the trees. This time, it was evident that there were people there—people who were running. Following the noise, Mahone and Jones started to run, but Alexander eventually told her to stop. They had arrived in a highly populated area, and they would be risking a lot entering there, so they went back to the car.

‘Don’t say you are sorry.’ Mahone looked at her. ‘I should’ve prevented it.’

Putting her shades on again, she started the car. ‘We should go back to the station. We must see the tattoos and deduce where he will be striking next.’

Chapter Text

Anger was too short for what Alexandria was feeling. She was pissed. Infuriated. She hated how much small details like that gravestone affected her. She was doing her job, and nothing could come in between. That's how she was trained. The scar on the back of her neck conveniently started scratching, as if someone somewhere was reminding her to always stay on track.

The worst part of it is that, as a matter of fact, Alexander was not mad at her. She'd known him for almost six years, and as if it wasn't evident by now, they knew each other extremely well. His intense blue eyes, cold and expressionless for most, were like an open window to her. Every plan, strategy, action, and even physical movement that he was thinking of, she was right there with him.

The same couldn't be said about the personal part of their relationship. He was like entering those illusion houses at carnivals, where dozens of mirrors were strategically placed to trick the mind. And she was making no real effort to find him through the maze. They were sometimes too far away, not even sharing their weekend or if they went to the movies last night (she never did). That's why his divorce from Pam came like a shock to her. She never saw it coming; to be fair, neither did Alexander.

They were sometimes too close, like the one time they were trapped inside a burning barn, and it ended up with both holding hands and telling each other stupid stories and facts about themselves because they genuinely thought it was the end. That was the first time he heard her laugh and saw her smile.

He wasn't mad at her. But she was.

Maybe that's why she was on high alert mode when she and Alexander met L.J. Burrows. The part of her that made her lower her guard when she was dealing with kids wasn't exactly working. They were talking about Lincoln Burrows' kid. And consequently, Scofield's nephew. They didn't buy that the kid was totally clueless about the mysterious message that his "lawyer" left him. But most importantly, she didn't buy that he needed to tie his shoes at that precise moment.

"On the third, look out for Otis Wright."

As they were standing in front of the elevators, her eyes started moving around. That's when she noticed that they were on the third floor and that both elevators had a sign that read "OTIS Manufacturing." L.J. kneeling down to tie his shoes as soon as the left elevator opened gave her everything she needed.

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The birdbath was starting to talk to him again. With the exception of one person, if he were to say that sentence to any other human, they would immediately call the Psych ward. But it was true. The birdbath in his backyard was louder than usual, and his insomnia was getting worse and worse. In a way, he was thankful that the operation would keep him out of home for days, even weeks. Maybe he should ask her to stay with her for a few days. Or maybe he should burn everything to the ground.

His hand reached to his left pocket, his fingers dancing around his pen cap. The metallic sensation was enough to send shivers down his spine. He knew he had a problem, but that was the last one on his list. The phone call regarding the detention of L.J. Burrows was enough to snap him out of his trance and silence once and for all that damn birdbath.

The kid was not cooperating, and they just wasted time, precious time that Scofield would use to play another of his cards. As they were leaving the interrogation room, he could tell that Jones was as tense as he was. They were clearly trying to hold onto their "no harm to the kids" agreement, but it was extremely difficult to maintain with the Scofield-Burrows family. While waiting for the kid to leave with his police officer, Mahone felt a slight touch on his left hand and followed Alexandria's gaze.

Of course.

He immediately told the police, who had L.J.'s custody, to hand them the boy and wait with the rest of his men. His mind started rushing, his pupils were dilated, and he felt like grabbing his pen for good, but he fought against it. He knew what was coming, and he needed to be calm. They all needed to be calm.

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No one dared to blink or even breathe. Four pairs of eyes staring at each other (Jones was holding L.J.'s head down on a chokehold). Green and blue. Blue and brown. Down and up. Mahone and Jones. Scofield and Burrows. Introductions aside, Alexandria immediately noticed the gun. Now they were even. She cursed at the stupid policy of leaving their charged guns at the entrance of the building.

'Keep it in the holster, and no one gets hurt. And you, let him go.' Burrow's voice was lower than she expected. Jones and Mahone exchanged a quick loo,k and she let the kid go. 'All right, L.J. hit stop. He's coming with us.'

'Hey buddy, give me his gun.' It was Scofield's turn to talk. Unlike his big brother, the former engineer seemed calmer. Still, Alexandria couldn't help but notice his almost imperceptible flinch when he was aware that both agents were not taking their eyes off him. L.J. proceeded to take Mahone's gun and hand it to his uncle. As Burrows was helping his son up, a loud noise startled everyone. It was a loud, empty noise.

Immediately, Alexandria kicked the alarm button, and Alexander held into L.J. for dear life. As if it was an old cartoon movie, all four members of the duality were pulling the poor kid's body. Cons and FBI agents. Preys and predators. Up and down. Scofield and Burrows. Mahone and Jones. Only this time, gravity played in their favor.

The hole in the ceiling was closed again, and the brothers disappeared. L.J. tried to fight back, but it was useless. As soon as the doors opened, Mahone sent the message to look for them in the building.

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Despite losing his gun and knowing the brothers had escaped, Mahone was in strange good humor. The 72-hour mark was getting closer, which meant only one thing: mistakes. He thrived on others' mistakes. As he was explaining to Agent Lang, it was just a matter of time before any of the Fox River's Eight would need medication or trust in the wrong person. And he was right.

First, he received his pile of gold: a backpack full of fake I.D., money, and cell phones belonging to the brothers. A sinister smile appeared on his face, which grew wider upon learning that Scofield had lost his means for fleeing the country and that his car had been towed and was in a nearby tow yard. Second, one of them was injured.

It seemed too good to be true. Too good... Suddenly, a strange sensation quickly overpowered him. It wasn't a regular criminal he was looking for. It was a damn civil engineer whose main crime was being a fucking genius. As expected, everything began crumbling down.

First, the stupid worker of the tow company couldn't do the basic task of distracting Scofield, and he stole the car. Then, the stupid people in his office were constantly running around doing five hundred tasks simultaneously instead of prioritizing an active search. To top it all, his stupid self accidentally pulled out THE file. Oscar Shales' intense eyes were looking at him again after two years. It was just a second, but the images returned like a flash. It was all starting to become too familiar, too close, too...

'Sir, there is a call to Scofield's phone; we are tracking him down.'

He thanked for the moment he decided against firing Wheeler. Both men and Alexandria jumped into the van. The signal from Scofield's car was a few miles ahead of them; they were so close that not even Jones' reckless driving was startling him (unlike Wheeler). He just needed to be right, just once.

The explosion made the three agents look up. Next, he knew he was watching the remains of the car he was supposed to follow. There was a lot of blood on the front seats, what looked like remains, and some personal objects. This looked like a win, but why it didn't feel like it?

Shales' name escaped from his lips. He knew Alexandria was looking at him but couldn't look back. He heard Wheeler explaining to the M.E. that Oscar Shales was the perp's name, which escaped Mahone's watchful eyes, and was still on the run. If only...

Now, he actually grabbed his pen. Unscrewing the top, he watched its content for a second. There was only one left, but he didn't care. In a slight movement, he emptied the contents, swallowing fast. He thought momentarily about the identical fake pen Jones also carried around with her as a "precaution." That would have to work until he needed to make some calls. Now, he had to wait. Different sensations ran down his spine as he felt the pill going down his throat: warmth, shivers, palpitations, coldness. He felt a cold sensation in his whole body. The sound of water alerted some of the cops nearby, but fortunately, everyone was looking elsewhere.

'Keep it together.' She muttered. Her water bottle was empty now, its contents covering Alexander's head, shirt, and suit. Water always worked. Ironically, for someone who always felt like walking underwater, the sensation of water running through his body brought him back to life. The way Jones realized that was a funny story, but it would be for another time.

'Let's wait for the lab results.' Alexandria began walking away from him, but he remained there. Letting out a big sigh, she made her way back. Grabbing his fingers slightly and getting closer to his ear, she whispered. 'We have leads on Abruzzi.'

Chapter Text

‘I kneel only to God; I don’t see him here.’

She hated the sound of bullets. Despite her background and always carrying at least two guns with her, the sound that followed after pulling the trigger still terrified her. She knew about some agents who had been referred to therapy and the FBI psychologist for not handling well the part of their jobs that required getting blood on their hands. But it wasn’t an option for her. She was afraid of the questions and possible consequences of her words, so she always kept shooting on target.

The bullets kept flying above her head. It was an elaborated strategy: more men than necessary, big weapons, and extensive perimeter coverage--- you could never know with the mafia. That’s why she was just there as a formality. At least that’s the reason he gave the rest of the officers for her not having a gun. Still, as soon as the first bullet was shot, she quickly pulled Mahone down, covering him with her body. It was pretty silly, honestly. The car was blinded, and the probability of getting reached by a bullet from their position was minimal. And yet, she did what she needed to do. That was her job.

She looked down at him. He wasn’t scared, probably just annoyed at the loud noise, but he wasn’t flinching. His head was on her lower back, her right arm above his head. His gaze was fixed upon the square of visibility between the ground and the car. She knew that there were millions of thoughts running through that head, tons of images coming back.

It wasn’t the first time they were in that situation. After his divorce and Pam having sole custody of little Cameron, Alexander began enrolling himself in various missions involving dangerous people. It was his way of coping. And she followed him through hell and back. Sometimes, they were in the middle of nowhere. Sometimes, they were being kidnapped. Sometimes they were under a shower of bullets, like right now. She had taken three bullets for him. It probably could be considered routine by now. But among all the thoughts that were running in Alexander’s head, Jones knew that if fear wasn’t one of them, it was because they had each other.

After a while, the noise stopped suddenly. The lifeless body of John Abruzzi lay on the ground in front of them. IAB would not be happy. But the job was done: one down, seven to go. She helped him to his feet, their gazes fixed upon the body. None of them said a word and went straight to the car. It never gets easier. And she hated the sound of bullets.

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Abruzzi was dead. C-Note and Sucre were located and on the verge of being detained. But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. At least his office finally started catching up with how to work with him. It only took for him to lose control over the stupid suggestion of Lang and Wheeler of announcing the death of Scofield and Burrows with only the confirmation of blood type from the evidence collected at the incident. Later, they would find out it was all staged and that their “proof” was merely pig’s blood.

The all-nighters had just begun. The clock marked 2:30 AM and it was only he and Jones at the office. Wheeler tried his best, but when he reached the 1:30 AM mark, he gave up and went home. He couldn’t blame him; they had been up for almost 30 continuous hours connecting the dots of the whereabouts of the rest of the Fox River’s Eight. Much to his dismay, his bosses told him not to focus entirely on Scofield, discover where the others were hiding, and leave the brothers for someone else. Except no one could.

He was starting to lose it: Scofield’s blue eyes watched him from the bullet board, just like Oscar Shales’ eyes used to watch him daily. His file kept appearing among his stuff. The sensation of everything slipping through his fingers was increasing. Scofield, Burrows, Shales, Pam, Cameron… he couldn’t bear losing something else.

‘You have no idea what you’re in for!’

The sharp pain he felt seemed like instant karma. Scofield’s picture lay on the floor while tiny drops of blood stained the floor beneath. His index finger was bleeding; a ridiculously small paper cut was able to create that mess. He sat on the floor, keeping his glance on his finger. May it serve as a reminder that he is losing the battle every time he loses his patience.

He hissed when he felt the cold cotton ball soaked in alcohol touch his skin. He had almost forgotten she was there. Secure in the shadows, Jones had witnessed the whole scene in silence. Unfortunately, it wasn’t unusual, so she knew what to do. After taking care of his finger, she pulled out her own pen, unscrewed it, and gave him the pill. She hated to do that, but Mahone was too deep in his addiction for her to try anything. She was there when it started and couldn’t really do anything to stop it because she knew it went beyond him.

‘He’s coming tomorrow to refill it; try to hold on.’

She sat next to him, her hand carefully reaching his shoulder. Automatically, his hand began playing with her fingers. His breathing eventually became stable, and he was able to turn his head to face her. Her green eyes were somehow more intense that night. A small, almost invisible smile on both of their faces.

‘Thank you, Brie.’

‘Always, Alexander.’

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He wondered if that is how it would feel if an angel were to present to him in his dreams to reveal a prophecy. Except it wasn’t an angel, it was Midazolam, 500 mg every 30 days. As soon as the pill entered his system, he felt the peace he needed to solve the mystery of why his escapees were heading towards Utah instead of the Mexican border. Some could say that feeling as if you were underwater could be counterproductive in an active search for some of the most dangerous criminals in the U.S., but Mahone knew that on his submarine kingdom, he was able to concentrate and that nothing could be done if his heart was continuously trying to escape his chest.

His spider webs were starting to increase their pace, making connections and recalling every single detail that he read about the Fox River’s Eight. The more he got into Scofield’s mind, the more he understood that there was no “too crazy” or “impossible.” He looked to his left for confirmation of his theory, but the unamused faces of Lang and Wheeler managed to kill the spirit.

He had sent Jones home and told her to wait for his instructions. She was not happy about that, but after last night's (or early morning) events, he needed some time alone. As much as he needed Alexandria to literally survive, whenever they found each other in their self-imposed maze, he was the first one to flee the scene and get lost all over again. They were better that way, and that strategy had helped, at least for him, for the past year or so.

Yet, he would always find himself regretting his decisions. Alexandria wouldn’t look at him as if he were out of his mind because she would see what he was seeing. The idea of not only solving the historical mystery of D.B. Cooper but also the whereabouts of almost all of the Fox River’s Eight was filling him with adrenaline. He was frustrated to notice the skeptical tone of his agents and that they did not seem entirely convinced when he rushed out of his office to prepare for his flight to Utah, but he took comfort in thinking of the sparkle in Alexandria’s green eyes when he told her about of his discoveries.

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The authorities in Utah looked at them as if they were out of their minds, investigating a case that happened so long ago and giving each other long looks with each new piece of information. Detective Lyle had a hard time looking for the keys to the drawer that contained all his cold cases, but unlike his colleagues, he was thrilled to have the FBI agents in his office. It was like watching Holmes and Watson in real life (or more like Tommy and Tuppence?), solving the case he had to endure fresh out of the academy with little to no resources and the mystery of the decade.

Alexandria was excited. Someone was going to go down that day. Yes, Abruzzi’s death was beneficial for the operation, but he offered no resistance and accepted death the moment he stepped out of that motel. She loved it when she was able to place the cuffs on the criminal’s wrists as Mahone declaimed the Miranda warning. And she wanted so badly to catch them for many reasons. Obviously, the most important was to return those rats to their sewer; she was especially eager to put her hands on Bagwell; she had a special hate towards rapists. But a part of her wanted to catch even the most harmless of them all for Alexander. The pressure from everyone above them was unbearable, and she knew he was resenting it the most.

They had been asking around gas stations and all the places that apparently D.B. Cooper, now Charles Westmoreland, visited when trying to hide the money. Currently, they were interviewing one of the few witnesses who remained alive, trying to clarify some inconsistencies in his original statement.

‘In the report, it’s noted that you said he filled up at 7:00 a.m., but on another occasion, you said it was 7:00 p.m. Which was it?’

‘Both.’

‘He gassed up twice?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Full tanks both times?’

‘Yeah. Why?’

She basically pushed Lyle to the side and began writing on the board once they reached the station. The Utah detective watched in awe as Mahone started and Jones finished the sentence. Something about calculations regarding the fuel consumed by a 1965 Chevy Nova and why D.B. Cooper gassed up twice. He watched as they began tracing his map, marking the perimeter covering the 64 miles on which Cooper could have left the stolen 5 million dollars.

‘I want everything that you have got on that perimeter. Those cons are in one of these towns, and if there is so much as a cat missing in one of them. I want to know about it.’

And, oh boy, something was missing. Or rather, someone.

The owners of a gardening shop. What a nice coincidence. The store was closed, and there was no sign of movement. The cop “helping” them even bet them their lunch money that there was nothing amiss around there. Good to know, as Alexandria was starving. He moved aside to let her throw the plant pot through the window, much to the cop’s dismay. Once inside the store, they found the missing men tied up.

An additional call confirmed their suspicions. Apolskis was sighted in a nearby gas station. They divided this time for the chase. Alexander had their van while Alexandria drove the patrol. After a while, the kid was cornered. She was finally able to place the cuffs.

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To no one’s surprise, he was not talking. He wouldn’t mind, but the stakes were high on this one. He was in the same state and town as his prey and needed answers fast. He hated the protocol of letting the precinct officers take the lead; they were getting nowhere and just wasting his time.

When Lyle finally gave up, he exchanged a glance with Jones. They were ready. They entered the room and took their usual places. She closed the blinds and guarded the door, her face looking at the wall the whole time. He pulled out the chair and sat in front of Apolskis. He was just a kid. A kid who made terrible life choices.

‘Like I said before. I ain’t going to tell you nothing.’

‘You know where those guys are.’

‘If you are looking for a rat, you got the wrong guy, man.’

‘Nah, I’m just trying to spare you some guilt. Bagwell was free less than 24 hours before he killed his first victim. If you don’t tell me where he is now, he’s gonna kill again, and that blood is gonna be on your conscience and nobody else’s.’

The images of Bagwell’s severed hand and the things he did to that poor vet were enough to change Tweener’s face. They were gruesome, horrifying, directly from a gory horror movie, and Mahone knew they were just a taste of what T-Bag could do. The kid was breaking down. Or so they thought. He managed to move an entire police unit and two FBI agents into what seemed like a love declaration. He promised to take them to Scofield and the others and lied to their faces. And Mahone was not a bit happy about that. If looks could kill, Alexander would have murdered Apolskis right there on the front porch of his girlfriend. He just had to say one word to let Jones know he was beyond his limit.

‘Drive.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

She knew that look. She knew that look, and she didn’t like it. But she kept driving. The protocol indicated that the same police patrol had to take the prisoner to the precinct, but their shiny badge had its perks. She kept driving. Alexander had his shades on, meaning that he didn’t want to talk. And knowing Mahone, his silence was more dangerous than anything else. His eyes were her window, and by him keeping them hidden, it meant that not even his right hand could predict what he had in mind. Her mind kept going back to the conversation he and Apolskis had at the precinct:

‘What if I tell you something? A secret no one else knows? Oscar Shales.’

Finding loopholes in official protocols was their specialty. During interrogations, she would stand at the door, looking at the other side. That way, she could say she didn’t see what Mahone was doing, but she was present during the interrogation, as stated. It worked most of the time, but Jones started fighting the urge to turn around and ask him what the hell he was doing at the mention of Shales' name.

‘Guy I was chasing a few years back, smart as hell. I kept just missing him. Bodies kept stacking up and I started to feel that it was because of me. Because I couldn’t do my job, because I wasn’t smart enough.’

She felt her heartbeat go up and up. He made a promise; he couldn’t just break it with a stupid teenager. Alexandria was running out of patience, and her usual straight and immovable posture was shaking. Fortunately, neither of the men was paying enough attention.

‘Never did catch him but I did lose him. Saw things when I would drive at night, bodies, nightmares to the point that I couldn’t sleep. It was a complete break from reality. Counts off my chest.’

She let out a deep sigh, just like she did in that room a few hours ago. Mahone did not notice, and Tweener just looked at her with curiosity. It had been too close. She trusted him, of course, but the similarities between the escape of the Fox River’s Eight and the chase for Oscar Shales were too much for Alexander. They needed to have a serious conversation when they were back in Chicago about how they would conduct interrogations from now on because she knew that if she were exposed to those levels of adrenaline again, she would die.

‘Stop here.’

She stopped the car on a curve in the middle of the road. The wrinkle in the middle of her eyebrows making another appearance before being hidden by her shades.

‘Yo, what’s up?’

‘Come on, it’s going to be a long drive. Stretch your legs.’

All three exited the vehicle, but as Alexandria wanted to approach him, Mahone signaled her to remain where she was. Suddenly, it was loud and clear. She closed her door and stood beside it, her gaze fixed upon the horizon. Her body was fighting to keep her gaze fixed upon the horizon.

‘Hey yo. Just so you know, man. I’m not going to roll on those guys. It ain’t gonna happen, so… if that’s what this is about…’

‘We were talking about confession earlier. And, uh… I think I owe you an apology because I lied to you about Oscar Shales. Smart-ass just kept pushing it, and I… I snapped. Right there. That’s where I put the bullet in him.’ The sound of Mahone’s hand slapping Tweener’s forehead resonated around.

‘I don’t care about none of this.’

‘Mistakes about that is forensics will tell the whole tale. Powder burns. The gun was right against his head.’

‘M’am?’ Tweener tried turning around to get Jones's attention. ‘I think we should go back to…’

‘See? That’s the good thing about confession. Because you say something, you get it off your chest, and it just goes out there into the whole world. I’m so sorry about this, kid, because I really hope you understand. I got nothing against you, kid.’

‘What are you doing, man?’

‘But they do.’

There it was. The awful sound of bullets again. As soon as Mahone said his apologies, she closed her eyes. She knew it, that horrible sensation on her chest as she was driving. She knew it; she just didn’t want to accept it. Five shots, a glass breaking, and a body collapsing into the ground. That was her cue. She turned around to see him. He was frozen on his spot, the gun still pointing towards Tweener. She took her shoes off and approached him. Her gloved hand reached his and took the gun, placing it delicately on Apolskis’ hands, making sure to get his prints on it.

Alexander started walking away from the body and kneeled in front of the van. He wasn’t even blinking; his locomotor system was busy keeping his lungs and heart inside his ribs. He felt her kneeling beside him.

‘It’s all done.’

He turned to see her. He couldn’t stop staring at her eyes; he felt like he would collapse if he stopped looking at her. They leaned closer, resting their foreheads together without breaking eye contact. He started mimicking her breathing and finally was able to close his eyes. Two down, six to go. Going back home was going to be a hell of a ride. He slowly opened his eyes, the emerald eyes still there. They had to go, and keep moving. In a fast move, he shortened the distance.

Chapter Text

What happened in the following hours felt like a blur to Alexander. He remembers the M.E.’s arriving at the place, Jones explaining to Detective Lyle what happened, the flight back home filled with turbulence, and the birdbath welcoming him home. He knew there were big chunks of information that were missing, but the only thing he wanted to concentrate on right now was to get his story straight. IAB had called as soon as they landed.

She was waiting for him at the entrance. It was a formal meeting, so her black suit was in order. Despite her shades, he knew she was going through their statement in her mind repeatedly. Cuffed during transportation… stopped at his request for urination… got a hold of the primary weapon on a hip holster… threatened life… shot. With a nod, they entered the building. They ignored the stares and the gossip. Good news traveled fast.

‘He’s in your office.’ Wheeler was the one to break the news to them.

‘I can’t believe they’re calling us back here when my escapees are out there. I want to know who this guy is.’ Mahone said.

‘Said his name was Sullins.’

‘Son of a bitch.’

Wheeler had to register that as the tenth time in his life that he had heard Jones talk. Both men turned to look at her. She had removed her glasses and stared at the man inside their office. He was staring right back. Even to Alexander, what had happened in Alexandria and Sullins first meeting when she joined the FBI was a mystery. But the evident thing was that it hadn’t ended well. Wheeler had to gain the courage to say his following words:

‘Agent Jones? You have to wait outside… Mr. Sullins wants to talk to Alex in private…’

She broke contact with Sullins’ eyes and turned to look at Alexander, and then she grabbed a chair, placed it right in front of the office’s doo,r and took a seat; her eyes never leaving the IAB agent. As soon as Alexander entered his office, Sullins closed the blinds.

‘You want to tell me why Internal Affairs is pulling out of the field in the middle of a manhunt?’

‘It’s been a while since we’ve had a sit-down, hasn’t it? Not since the Shales escape, am I right?’

‘Yeah, yeah, what is going on, Richard?’

‘That’s precisely what I’m here to find out. And you’re not getting out of here until I do.’

Alexander knew the drill very well. It wasn’t the first time that he and Sullins had had a “talk.” Last time, it lasted 10 hours. He just needed to remain calm, remind him that he was not working on the field but behind a desk and that in a manhunt, death was always a possibility. Sullins began asking the usual questions regarding his decisions on the Abruzzi operative and how he handled the Tweener detention. He expressed his “confusion” regarding how the teenager was able to not only overpower two FBI-trained agents (Alexander dodged Jones's responsibility, affirming she was taking care of her “female” situation) but also getting hold of Mahone’s gun while cuffed. Alexander knew he was not buying it, mainly because his reaction time was immaculate, making it difficult to believe that he did not see Tweener coming for his gun.

‘You see, Alex, you have an advantage because of the only two other people in the scene. One is dead, and I know Jones will tell me exactly what you just told me.’

‘Just the facts, Richard.’

‘How long have you and Jones been working together, five years?’

‘Six years.’

‘I remember when she arrived at the office; you fought really hard to keep her in. And ever since, it has always been Jones and Mahone. The unbreakable duo.’ Alexander didn’t like the sarcasm in his voice. He just nodded slightly.

‘Pretty convenient that she’s always there, right Alex?’

‘She is my partner. I see that desk job has affected your ability to remember how things work on the field.’

‘So funny, Alex. But you see, what I was trying to say was that she is always there when you get in trouble with IAB. Some would say you are covering each other’s tracks, hiding stuff from the office.’

‘Richard, please.’

‘Let’s be clear with something, Alex. If something like this happens again, we are going to take Jones out of the operation and assign you someone new, someone who… collaborates. Are we clear?’ Alexander just nodded. The vein on his forehead popped out.

‘You know, waiting for your flight from Utah, I had a little extra time for due diligence, so I decided to dig a little deeper into your history or, rather, lack of one.’

So, he was going to play dirty. He proceeded to recall his history: poor family, records of domestic violence, his father’s beatings, his joining the military, and his suspicious rapid rise in ranks that led him to the largest manhunt this country’s ever seen. Sullins was clearly annoyed at the secrecy regarding Alex Mahone and the blind eye that the Bureau had for all of his dirty tactics.

‘Oh, and what do we have here? You and Jones even match in your files! Or rather the lack of.’ He showed him his and Jones’ files. Each consisted of merely ten pages (Alexandria’s was slightly smaller) with many sections blacked out.

Before he could go any further, there was a knock on the door. An agent told Sullins he needed to take a call, and after that, he reluctantly let Mahone go. As he opened the door, they encountered Jones sitting on her chair, still staring. She purposely hit Sullins with her shoulder as she entered the office.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“There is something about those guys, the ones in the elevator… It’s like they know where we are going, what are we thinking…”

Michael wanted to shake that feeling off his shoulders, but as soon as he learned about David’s death at the hands of Agent Mahone, he decided to do some research. His investigation led him to Pam Mahone (nee Larson)’s house in Durango, Colorado. She was a lovely woman but surprisingly naïve to have been married to an FBI agent. She let him in with the excuse of a background check on Alexander, as he would be promoted. She told him his story, how they met, and when the divorce happened. Apparently, it came as a surprise to her. She also mentioned that he had been acting weirdly ever since the Shales mission, gardening, covering himself in dirt, lye, and fertilizer to plant a flower bed.

‘Then, the screams came, his avoidance… until he threw me out of the house and asked for the divorce… Can I tell you something?’

‘Go ahead.’

‘At first, I thought he was cheating on me. But after asking around, the only person that could have happened with is Terminator, so there is no way…’

‘Terminator?’

‘Sorry, it slipped. Agent Jones.’

‘Why did you have suspicions of Agent Jones?’

‘Well… for instance, she appeared out of nowhere; she suddenly arrived one day at the office, and Alex immediately requested her as his partner. Also, he avoided any questions regarding her… As I told you, I asked around, but no one seemed to know her or what her story was; I just learned she used to be in the military, and that’s it. They spent a lot of time together… and I tried, I really tried to be polite to her, but she is like a rock or a robot. I was never able to have a conversation with her… She’s so weird… too weird even for Alex; that’s how I know nothing happened.’

‘I see… when did they start working together?’

‘A year before we had Cameron. It was the beginning of the Oscar Shales search as well.’

‘And, his erratic behavior happened while actively searching for Shales?’

‘No, that is what’s weird to me. It was after the case went cold.’

‘I think that’s all I need, ma’am. Thank you.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Alexander's constant sound of words being muttered interrupted the night's quietness. Although he was lying on his bed, he might as well be pacing around the room. The words leaving his mouth were a series of tasks that needed to happen in Gila for him to be able to put his hands on Scofield. He knew that he needed to sleep and that he would hate himself in the next couple of hours if he didn’t, but the words kept coming to his head and exiting through his mouth.

‘Car. Two cars. Motel. Pictures. Guns. Bullets. Tape. Shovels… Car. Two cars. Motel. Pictures. Guns. Bullets. Tape. Shovels… Car. Two cars. Motel. Pictures. Guns. Bullets. Tape. Shovels… ‘

Paul Kellerman was someone he didn’t want to trust but had to. He had given him information regarding a meeting between Scofield and Sara Tancredi, the doctor who left the door open for the inmates when they escaped Fox River and, apparently, his love interest. It would be in Gila, New Mexico, and Mahone was heading there tomorrow at noon. When he met Kellerman, he was not surprised that the people who were behind him had connections with the Secret Service and even the Presidency. He seemed cocky, too confident on the mission, not a single sign of regret while he was telling Alex that he needed to kill them all. What the hell did he get himself into?

But it was too late to go back. If he did, the questions would continue: there will be more Sullins, more investigations, and then, his secret would be out and he would lose everything. The picture of Pam and Cameron on his wallet served as a reminder of why he was doing all of this: perhaps, with eight graves on his pocket, he would have his family back.

‘Car. Two cars. Motel. Pictures. Guns. Bullets. Tape. Shovels… Car. Two cars. Motel. Pictures. Guns. Bullets. Tape. Shovels… Car. Two cars. Motel. Pictures. Guns. Bullets. Tape. Shovels… ‘

The light next to him turned on.

‘I took care of all that precisely to sleep a little longer, Alexander.’

‘Sorry, go back to sleep.’

It’s not like they haven’t done it before. They didn’t even bother asking for a double room at motels anymore. It all started the year after he was divorced and willingly enrolled in faraway missions to stop thinking. They were in the middle of nowhere, with no communication or movement for weeks. Some would say it was just a matter of time. The problem is that it continued. After their first time, they both agreed it was just for the sake of doing it, no feelings involved.

But it was just sex. Nothing more. He didn’t even know if they qualified as “Friends with Benefits.”

She sat on the bed. Through the corner of his eyes, he looked at her. It was one of the only occasions that her hair was down. He noticed the marks of his teeth on her shoulders and breasts. The metallic chain on her neck going up and down with her breathing. The three bullet scars on her shoulders. He was tempted to trace his fingers down her spine but he would be crossing their already blurred lines. No signs of affection. No cuddling afterwards (although this rule had been broken many times by their involuntary actions while sleeping). No caring. He looked at her again.

She laid down again and turned to face him. He would be lying if he said he didn’t find her pretty. Alexandria Jones was indeed a very attractive woman. Intimidating, yes, but extremely intelligent, wise and sharp. And also very pretty. But he would never say that. Never in a million years. After all, she wasn’t Pam, his Pam. The intensity of her gaze made him look at her in the eye.

‘Everything is going according to plan. We will get him. We always do. I need you to calm down; you won’t work as well as I know you can if you keep worrying. We are a team, remember?’

He nodded and started to lay down properly. As she was about to turn the light off, he turned fast towards her.

‘Brie?’

His lips captured hers. He had to admit that he always did that when he needed something from her. Reassurance, silence, peace, whatever. She always answered his kisses, giving him exactly what he needed. But hey, no feelings involved, remember?

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

‘There is little information about him, but I moved my strings and I have something on him. Not that I can say the same about the woman.’

‘Scary, right? She reminds me of Trinity from the Matrix movies-‘

‘Focus Linc. Nothing is under her name, just a small mention in a news article, but it’s like she doesn’t officially exist.’

‘I mean, their information should be pretty confidential, right?’

‘Yeah, but according to Mahone’s ex-wife, no one really knows where she came from. Supposedly, she has military background, but taking off the extra inches from the boots, she does not have the required height. She is always at Mahone’s left, guarding his vital organs on that side. She is always wearing gloves, dark clothing, and at least two guns, plus, I am almost convinced she has a pocket knife hidden in her suspenders.’

‘Ok… so a very intense bodyguard?’

‘Or rather, a professional assassin. They are here to kill us.’

Chapter Text

They had six hours before going to New Mexico, and Alexander had the great idea of going to the office. Everyone had their respective tasks assigned: Lang was on the verge of getting C-Note, Wheeler had excellent leads on Patoshik, and the rest of the office was tracking Sucre and T-Bag. There was literally no need to go. Alexandria hoped that the warm water would convince him to change his mind.

‘Is it really necessary, Alexander?’

‘I need to make sure, Brie. Plus, Kellerman said he would call me in a couple of hours with more information… pass me that, please.’

She passed him the razor. She continued washing her hair, lost in her thoughts. They had agreed that they didn’t trust Kellerman and that they would have at least three strategies under their sleeve for any plan he suggested. But the more they became involved with people outside the Bureau, the more she feared there was something bigger going on. Why kill them? Why was Lincoln Burrows framed, expressly? Why was Michael Scofield relevant to all of this? And why was he not saying anything? Alexander was about to turn the water on when she stopped him.

‘Who are “they”?’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘What you said to Tweener… you said that “they” had something against him… who are “they”, Alexander?’

‘I thought it would take you less time to figure out this was beyond FBI…’

‘I was giving you the benefit of the doubt. Well, tell me.’

He stared at her. She could tell that he was having a mental battle. ‘I’m leaving you out of this, Brie. Just do your job as you always do.’

‘I’m not going to New Mexico if you are keeping secrets from me.’

‘Brie…’

‘I’ve done everything by your side…’

‘Brie…’

‘You know I can handle it! I’m not Pam!’

‘Of course you are not Pam.’

By that point, the bathroom was starting to get cold. It could be hard to believe, but to them, the fact that they were naked and wet was totally irrelevant. In any other circumstances, that could have been a business meeting.

‘Fine. I… I don’t want to fail you, that’s all.’

‘You won’t, I know you won’t.’

Water started running again, but they didn’t go in. Her arms surrounded his back, and his were placed on her lower back. Not a word exchanged. Just like the kisses for Alexander, the embraces were how Alexandria would get what she wanted. Reassurance, silence, peace, whatever.

‘Let’s get ready; we still need to go to the office.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

‘God helps the agent who goes behind my back and talks to the press!’

As she predicted, going to the office wasn’t a great idea. They had just received a package confiscated from Scofield’s car containing nitro-glycerine ampules, medical grade. In other words, a time bomb that could blow the entire building if not stored correctly. He hated when his own office was the one making mistakes. The vein in his forehead popped even more because, following the explosive incident, they received the news that C-Note had managed to escape with his daughter and wife, outplaying an entire unit. And then came the call.

‘Pam, I really can’t talk right now.’ Mahone said, pinching his nose.

‘Maybe I should call back.’ A male voice appeared instead.

‘Who is this?’

‘I think you already know.’

He motioned Jones to lock the door and close the blinds, placing the call on speaker as he tried to sound as calm as possible.

‘If you’ve done anything to Pam or my boy…’

‘We both know your family is fine. Although, Pam did seem a little upset about you leaving. But then you had to, didn’t you?’

Alexandria had to give it to Scofield; that kid was incredibly smart. He was playing Alexander’s game now, and he was winning. He was able to connect the dots and deduce what really happened to Shales that night and where he really was. She never agreed to do that in the first place: it was poetic, burying your worst enemy in your backyard, but at the same time, it was too close. Those were the thoughts that were running through her head as they were digging in the middle of the night. But she kept doing the job. There was no going back from the moment that gun was shot.

‘I’m going to give you a chance. Back off. Let me and my family disappear. And in return, I’ll keep your little secret. How does that sound?’

‘Like a dead man talking.’

‘I know your game, Alex. I know you’ll keep figuring things out. When the time comes, you will signal that professional assassin of yours to do the job. But then, you’ll discover that nothing was under your control.’

‘He knows.’ The sound of the chair falling after he had kicked it probably startled the people outside his office. She quickly grabbed him and led him to sit on the floor.

‘He doesn’t know everything. Plus, he’s the most wanted man in America; who’s going to believe him?’

‘We need to… we need to move him and get rid of everything.’ He brought his hands to his eyes.

‘DNA remains on the ground; we would have to burn everything which would make it more obvious… or we can be wiser… Your dogs, Lucky, Bobby, and Stella… oh, and Ms. Johnson’s cat, she couldn’t bear having Snowflake in her backyard, so you kindly buried it in yours… and how can we forget when the opossums and raccoons fought there, leaving you the losers of their clandestine fights…’

He turned to look at her. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘By the time they start looking, they will find endless DNA traces; it could take years, and even after that, we could argue contamination.’

‘What… when?’

‘When you went to Colorado for Cam’s birthday last year… it isn’t perfect, but it will give us time so that Scofield cannot use that against us. Plus, we have plan B…’

‘Plan B involves you in jail, and that’s not an option… even more after what you’ve just told me…’

‘It’s my job.’

His lips were inches away from her forehead, but as the distance was closing, the presence of his wallet in his pocket and the pictures inside became more evident. He stood up quickly, leaving her on the floor.

‘Come on, we have a plane to catch.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

From their interactions with Scofield, she wouldn’t have painted him as the romantic type. But seeing how much he risked just to meet with Sara Tancredi made Alexandria question whether he was that smart. Or if he was just in love. Because those kinds of sacrifices were the ones that one could only make if love were involved. Since their arrival in Gila, she and Alexander had been visiting every hotel in town, searching for the lovebirds.

‘I have an address, let’s go.’

‘Does Tancredi has to go as well?’

‘Collateral damage.’

‘From what I see, if we have a “collateral damage” here, you could also have some.’

‘He’ll be dead before he can place a hand upon Pam or Cameron.’

‘And you’ll be dead if Tancredi ends up with just a scratch. I’m not shooting if I see her, just so you know.’

‘And just so you know, I am your boss, and you do what I say! Where is this all coming from?’

‘You are letting him into your head. It’s not our first time dealing with people like him. What’s different this time, Alexander?’

‘There is more at stake, more than you can think!’

‘Then tell me, Alexander! Or I could be collateral damage as well.’

‘WELL STAY HERE THEN!’

They stared at each other, his eyes wide open and his nostrils flaring up. In contrast, she was as cold as ever. She put her shades on and left the car, not even slamming the door. He started the car and drove away. It’s not like she wasn’t angry; it was just that they’d never had those kinds of disagreements before. Their partnership relied on confidence and their outstanding ability to read each other. It was very different from hiding stuff like personal situations (or feelings) from each other to hiding stuff that directly involved their job. How could she protect and be there for him if he left her in the dark? Not that she would ask himself the same question, though.

Maybe he was right; maybe the right way was not to ask questions and do as told. But she had been there before, and he, more than anybody, knew it hadn’t ended well. She was not going to be collateral damage, not again. She confirmed her suspicions when she saw Sara Tancredi driving their car down the road a few hours later with no sign of Alexander.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Alexander was one of those people who had to constantly do something to avoid being left alone with his thoughts. From years of being side-to-side with Alexandria, he had lost the ability to be alone, in all senses, professional and personal. His pride prevented him from calling her once he found himself trapped inside the cage where Scofield had easily led him. He not only had to endure the smart kid talking about “the right side” or who were “the good ones”, but had to resort to letting him know that he knew everything (or almost everything), forcing him hopefully to improvise and make mistakes.

Then, he also had to deal with Agent Bill Kim: that bastard, who hid behind a desk and a phone, dared to go there and shove Mahone’s failures to his face. He was one of the people alongside Kellerman who wanted the escapees dead and was using him to do the job in exchange for their silence in the Shales’ case. The moment the name of his son escaped that idiot’s mouth, was the moment when he couldn’t take it anymore: his hand was on his neck, ready to take out all the air from his lungs, but he couldn’t do it. Not when Cameron was at risk.

Defeated, he entered the new car that the agency had provided and started deducing the following steps from Scofield’s plan. But it was hard. His mind was everywhere. On top of that, he also couldn’t stop thinking about Alexandria. He regretted his words from earlier, not just because he was in the middle of nowhere without a clue about where to go but also because the more he thought about it, the more he realized he had been an idiot. She would have understood if he could have told her about the threats, his fears, and everything about Kellerman and Kim. She wouldn’t have run away. He trusted her more than he ever trusted anyone, even Pam. Because she had been there in the worst of all and decided to stay, it’s not like he couldn’t do it without her; it was that he didn’t want to.

‘Hey, it’s me. Call me when you can, it’s important. I… need you, Brie.’

It only took a couple of minutes after he sent the voice mail: a series of numbers depicting some coordinates and a simple message.

“The numbers were hidden in the Bolshoi Booze tattoo. Middle of nowhere. I’ve met Kim. He doesn’t know everything.”

He looked ridiculous kissing his phone, but he did it anyway. Just as he was about to call her again to thank her, he received another call.

‘Pam?’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

If she had to guess how many hospitals she knew because of her job, she would say about a thousand. It was the easiest way to catch someone and the best source of information. Apparently, Mahone’s phone was busy, and Wheeler ended up calling her to inform them that someone willing to give away the brother had been admitted to a hospital nearby. As soon as he saw him at the entrance, she knew something was wrong.

‘Wheeler said you weren’t answering your phone.’

‘He must have called when I was talking to Pam.’

‘I see… What happened out there, Alexander?’

‘I… I think I killed someone…’

‘Someone as in Burrows, Scofield, or someone else?’

‘Someone as someone important to them… I think it was their father.’

‘Fuck…’

He was actually worried. This could cause many problems to the operation. He started pacing around, muttering things under his breath. She noticed him constantly going for his pen but not taking it out. Some nurses started staring, so she pulled him to the side. Grabbing him by his elbows, she forced him to look at her.

‘Hey, hey, calm down.’

‘I told him that we knew everything; I gave up our only advantage.’

‘That’s irrelevant; I’m sure he already knew. He’s smart enough not to change anything because that would force him to improvise, and he knows that would screw him.’

‘I thought the same thing.’

‘So, we continue with what we know, and if it’s not today, then next week or month. Please don’t lose your head over them. You’ll get them.’

‘We. We’ll get them. I need you here, Brie. With me.’

‘I’m not going anywhere, Alexander.’

‘What did Kim say to you?’

‘That they knew about Shales and that they would keep the secret as long as you return Scofield and Burrows’ heads. Be proud of me; I didn’t fight back when he pointed me with a gun. To him, I’m just your assistant and driver. Meaning that he doesn’t know where Shales is or how I am involved.’

‘But he can figure it out soon; we must be careful.’

‘Alexander?’ She grabbed him by the collar, their faces merely inches away from each other. ‘I know why you are doing this. We have avoided the Shales thing for a long time; we’ll be fine. No one will touch Cameron, not while I’m around.’

He looked at her. The worry on his face, which was only evident to her, slowly dissipated. Her hands delicately placed on his cheeks, trying to make him regulate his breathing before going in. He pulled away when he started noticing himself looking at her lips for too long.

The person who wanted to talk to him was a criminal, but not one of the ones he was looking after. He was a coyote that Michael had fooled and almost fatally shot (suddenly, the packages of nitro-glycerine ampules started to make sense). But, of course, a rat like him wanted a deal first. Not only did he want all his charges dropped, but he also wanted citizenship. Alexandria immediately noticed that Mahone was on the verge of exploding with him, but this time, she let him.

‘I’m so tired of playing games.’

‘Well, start typing.’

That was it. Her cue. She went to guard the door, closing the blinds. A couple of nurses tried to get in, but she easily threw them out. Mahone started disconnecting the machines that were providing pain medications to the coyote. As predicted, the idiot started talking. Next they knew they were calling all the border patrol, navy reserves, air stations, and even the Mexican government, all of that while trying to reach Burrows and Scofield before they could escape by plane. The sound of airplanes taking off increased their anxiousness, but suddenly, a miracle on the highway.

Who the hell was on those planes? It didn’t matter. The brothers were on the ground and driving a few miles before them. And so the action began. The rush of persecution would always give her goosebumps. She knew her cars and how to make them do whatever she wanted. Despite the seriousness of the operation, Mahone took a moment to look at her. He would never admit it, but he was always in awe whenever she drove like that. She had that look on her face that filled Mahone with adrenaline.

They chased them for hours. It was late at night when the brothers started slowing down. Maybe they’d run out of gas. Perhaps the car wasn’t working anymore. Or maybe they would flee the scene, protected by the dark. It was now or never.

‘I’m doing it.’

She pressed the pedal until it was parallel to the floor. Her right hand somehow stopping Alexander from flying through the windshield while she controlled the steering wheel with her left one. And then, a thunderous noise. Neither car would start again. After the collision, all four of them got out of their respective vehicles. The brothers were gasping for air, clearly shocked at what happened. They didn’t have time to react as Mahone and Jones were pointing their guns at them.

Chapter Text

It was a staring contest. Scofield vs Jones. They were at a New Mexico station near the border after the Border Patrol stopped her and Alexander from shooting the brothers. It would be a long way back to Chicago, and Alexandria knew that by that point, Michael and Lincoln would have a bullet in their skull. The question was, from who?

'I don't want either of you. I just want my life back!'

Little by little, the truth was being revealed. After they gave their declaration to the officers, Mahone excused himself to take a call. A scream from Alexander, threatening the person on the other side of the line to leave his family alone, could be heard. Despite what they tell you, the threats you receive are usually harmless. In 6 years of hunting criminals (14 in total for Mahone), there was never a day on which Alexandria noted that Alexander was genuinely worried for Pam and Cameron's safety. He'd often call them to make sure they were okay. Still, it was merely for the sake of doing it. Back in the day, he knew that he'd come home to them at the end of the day.

But now it was different. He was desperate, ready to rip the world apart because there was an actual life-death situation out there. She could recall the day he told her they were expecting as if it was yesterday: he had always wanted to be a father, but he couldn't hide the fear in his eyes from her. The most challenging part of being an agent starts when you have someone you care for. The long working hours, constantly traveling overseas, putting your life in danger, and yes, the "harmless" threats, all of that become heavier when you have loved ones involved.

Maybe that's why she excelled at her job. No kids, no partner, no family, no pets, no friends, no nothing. Maybe the cactus Cameron gave her once for Christmas, but nothing else. You could argue her "relationship" with Alexander, but it was complicated. They could spend every night together sleeping or having sex, but whenever she went home from the missions, her cold and almost empty apartment was the only one that would welcome her home. No after-calls, no dinners, no nothing. In the end, he was not hers and will never be. Not that she wanted to change that...

The man in front of her was a mystery, though. His coldness and calculated moves reminded her of herself, as weird as it sounds. But she knew that, unlike her, he actually was able to love. Pushing Sara Tancredi aside, not many people would risk their careers, prestige, health, body, and freedom to save someone. His bond with his brother was incredibly strong, and Alexandria knew he wouldn't give up on cleaning his brother's name, even if that meant taking down some of the most powerful people in the government and, perhaps, the world.

As expected, they didn't let them ride in with Scofield and Burrows. They let them follow in a chase car, but nothing else. Scofield hadn't stopped staring at them; the contest was still going. Then, two calls that changed it all. The first one was from Kim, stating that Kellerman had a team ready to move on the caravan just outside Albuquerque and that in the middle of the confusion and the bullets flying over them, there should be three with a specific objective: Scofield, Burrows, and Kellerman. The following call came from the dead man walking himself.

'Now listen. Me jumping in at this point in no way it reflects my feelings about the job you've been doing. I just wanted you to know that.'

'Of course. So long as we get the job done.'

'Hey, I can take a wild guess on the threats they've done to you. In solidarity, I'll let you know that they took someone away from me. Someone I care for. So, I get you. Let's get this done and we all get to go back to our families, right?'

'The sooner the better.'

'That was a lie.' Alexandria was unamused by both calls. They could easily take both Kim and Kellerman down if they wanted to.

'Yeah, but let him know we have a common fight. We are approaching the objective.'

The objective was a tunnel; something would be staged so the brothers could "escape", running straight towards the end of Kellerman's gun. It was easy enough if the brothers would fall for it. If they would. She saw Burrows first, running to a door at the side of the road, followed by his brother. Bullets started to fly, but she and Mahone ran to the other entrance, ready to chase them. It was like a labyrinth, barely illuminated. The brother's steps could be heard a few miles away.

'We need to separate.'

'Last time we did that, you ended up locked in a cage.'

'Kellerman is on the surface, waiting for them to go up, but there could be many exits; we need to lead them to him.'

'I've always wanted to be a German shepherd. Take care.'

'You too.'

He went north, and she went south. The sound of steps was getting louder each time. She was close. After a few minutes, she could see the back of the heads of the brothers. Now it's when her dark clothing came in handy. She quietly approached them until she was inches away when Scofield turned around. Then, the chase started again. Whenever she needed to run after someone, she let them think they were in control. But it only took a couple of bullets flying to force them to follow the path that she wanted. She was guiding them to the stairs leading them to the surface when suddenly, all five of them faced each other. The brothers were surrounded: Kellerman to the left, Mahone in the middle, and Jones to the right, all pointing their guns.

The first time she was shot was within a month of their first mission. They were chasing a drug lord and were ready to take him down when one of their own agents was revealed to be a part of the cartel and was about to shoot Mahone when she placed herself in front of him, taking the bullet. The second and third time came the same day. It was actually in an operative trying to catch Abruzzi. But he surprised the agents with dozens of men surrounding them, outnumbering them in people and guns. Again, she was his human shield. That's why John Abruzzi's death came to be like that: a simple parody of his own tactics.

There were still gunpowder residues flying from Kellerman's gun when it downed on her. She wasn't feeling any pain. And he immediately fell to the ground. The bullet probably hit the spleen or worse. She felt her legs shaking, her mind going a thousand miles per hour. For the first time, she didn't know what to do. She just knew she was unbelievably angry. She grabbed her second gun, now pointing one to the brothers and the other to Kellerman.

'I'd think twice, Jones.' The tone of Kellerman's voice made her look down.

The blood stain on his shirt increased by the second. She stared once again at the three men standing up and lowered her guns. Immediately, they ran towards the exit, and she went to see him. Her hands immediately pressed into the wound, trying to stop the hemorrhage. He was unconscious. She needed to get him out of there as fast as she could. Taking off her suspenders and blouse, she wrapped them around the wound, creating a tourniquet. He was taller and heavier than her, but she was able to carry him on the side. As she climbed the stairs, she felt something else besides blood and sweat on her skin. The salty taste of tears made one of their rare appearances. Thank goodness for the dark.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The unmistakable smell of hospital cleaning soap was the first thing that hit his nose. The beeping of the machines surrounding him also gave him a clue of what had happened. He wasn't feeling any pain, probably because of the medication, but he was extremely tired. His hand reached his left side, where a bandage was tightly placed. He also felt her presence right next to him. It was difficult to see because his eyes were blurry, but he could tell she had been sitting beside him for a long time. Her voice cracked as she called the nurse after noticing he was awake, which engulfed him in a mixture of emotions. He reached for her hand.

'Brie.'

'I'm here. You were shot... I...'

'Ma'am, I need you to step out of the room so I can examine him.'

Reluctantly, she let go of his hand and exited the room. The nurse started taking his vital signs, checking stuff in the monitors, and examining his wound. That would leave a scar, for sure.

'You are very lucky.'

'I suppose that means there were no vital organs involved.'

'Well, yes. But also you are very lucky because you have a very caring wife. She basically saved your life with that tourniquet; she was here awake all night and even donated blood for you. Don't make it hard for her at home, will ya?' He kept silent.

As soon as the nurse stepped out of the room, his ringtone startled him. He reached out for his phone on the table next to him. Probably the worst person he could think of was on the other side of the line.

'Mr. Mahone? You are a lucky man. Kellerman finished the job you couldn't. But he, unfortunately, is still out there. And he's a loose end. You have to finish what you were supposed to take care of.' Mahone left out a subtle chuckle. 'Something funny?'

'Kellerman is more of a loose end than you realize. He shot me... That guy you wanted to double-cross screwed you first.'

'Scofield and Burrows?'

'Are probably alive and on the run with Kellerman. Have a good day, Kimmy.'

He heard some faint steps approaching. It was a weird picture, as Alexandria usually never showed signs of vulnerability. But right now, she looked like a deer on the headlights. She walked across the room and sat on the chair beside his bed. She wasn't looking at him.

'Hey, I wanted-'

'It's my fault.' She interrupted him. 'We agreed that we didn't trust Kellerman, so I should've been eyeing him as well, but we were so close to the brothers... and I... I didn't react on time... I don't know what happened to me, and now you are injured, and they escaped...

'Brie.'

'And now, with Kellerman on their side, everything changes...'

'Brie.'

'What will we tell the Bureau or the other people?'

'Brie!' He reached his hand to her face. Suddenly, she was the same woman he met all those years ago. 'Brie...' The dry tears on her cheeks made his heartache. Slowly, she turned to look at him, guilt still settled on her face.

'Brie... it doesn't matter. You saved my life.'

'It should've been me...'

'I think it would only be fair after all these years if I received something now and then.'

'Don't joke about that.'

'My "wife" has three bullet scars; it is fair that I have at least one.'

'It was the only way they would let me stay; I'm sorry.'

'Brie...' His hand was moving up and down on her cheek. It was a rare situation for them, not something that would have seen the outside of the bedroom. They knew some nurses were watching them, but they didn't care. In the end, they were "husband and wife", right? 'We are leaving. We are done with all of them.'

'Are you serious?'

'We are going to be free.'

There was a smile. An actual smile.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Nothing good ever lasts. It has always been like that; why would she think otherwise? But those moments, those few hours between Mahone waking up and Agent Blondie showing up, felt like a dream. And one of the good ones, with colors, music, and a plot that didn't involve murder. For a few hours, Alexandria actually believed that she and Mahone were going to be free: living a boring, mundane life in a faraway place where they didn't know how to use a weapon or how fresh blood smelled like. Yes, working at the Bureau had given her a place to make "good" with the things she knew, but that definition of "good" was becoming blurry, and she feared that she would start to become the person she hated the most. She had been thinking about moving on for a while, but it was too difficult given her situation. So, when the opportunity of doing so came upon her, and moreover, doing it with Alexander by her side, she didn't even question it. Of course, she was wrong.

She had been taking care of him, feeding him and helping him clean himself. They chatted and even joked around. The possibility of living a new life gave her strength, even after not sleeping all night. Her hopes were increased when an agent entered the room, and Mahone confirmed his words.

'I just spoke to Kim. He wants you to finish the job.'

'Yeah? Well, that's not going to happen.' She was standing behind him and she felt him leaning on her.

'This isn't a request.'

'And this isn't a negotiation. Kim and Kellerman can try to kill each other all day long.' He turned to look at her. 'But we are out.'

'You must have forgotten how discreet we've been with what we know.'

'Go tell the world about Shales! In fact, I will. I killed a predator, a man who tortured and raped women and I buried him in my backyard. I'll do the time. I don't care anymore, I'm out.'

Once the agent stepped out of the room, he leaned back into the bed, smirking. He turned to look at her, and with a silent motion, she lay next to him, facing each other.

'You are not being serious.'

'I am. The sentence may be minimal with good attorneys and a good case.

'The point of all of this was none of us stepping in jail.'

'If it's the price it takes, I'll do it. For us, Brie. I owe it to you.'

Once again, that stupid habit of not questioning him. She believed every word he said, every action. It has been the same ever since that day. In Revelations 1:9, it is stated that the sound of seven trumpets would be the cue for apocalyptic events. In that little hospital in New Mexico, it was the sound of a ringtone.

Pam.

She wasn't even on speaker, and yet she could hear her loudly and clearly. Her screams and cries. It was Cameron. A hit and run. His leg was broken in two parts, and he was heading towards surgery. The affable and tranquil look on Mahone's face quickly turned into panic, tearing apart all the medical equipment connected to him and heading towards the exit. The nurses and Alexandria tried to stop him, but it was useless. He was trying to catch a cab on the street when Jones finally joined him. Well, him and that agent from before.

'How's your boy? Tib-fib fractures are bad but if the growth's plate is affected, there's a whole host of problems.'

'You made a mistake.'

'No you did. You think you can just quit like you work at a post office? Now you're needed back in. Go clean up your mess. Maybe there won't be another accident on the streets of Durango, Colorado.'

'Be grateful that we are in a public place.'

He turned around and started pacing around, a thousand words leaving his lips per second. He was clearly desperate. And so was she. Her past words hit her like a whip.

"No one is going to hurt Cameron, not while I'm around."

She had failed, and now everything she dreamed of was crumbling apart. The bottle of water in her hand signaled her what to do.

'Alexander. Alexander!' Once again, he was covered in water. 'If you get desperate, you lose. If you lose your head, everyone, including Cameron, loses, okay? Calm down.'

There was no trace of the smile that appeared once on her face. In fact, it seemed like she had buried it even further. Her usual blank stare faced the desperation of Alexander's factions. She was back in work mode, ready for the next task. There was only a hint of disappointment and hopelessness in her eyes, and this time, Alexander failed to notice it.

'This thing... it's called the Company. They said that if I got this done, they would leave my family alone, and I'd be able to go back to them. Be a family again.'

That was it. Of course. It was foolish for her to believe there could be another outcome to risking their lives daily. The finish line was Cameron, Pam, and Alexander. And her? What was her finish line after all of this ended?

'Let me take care of this.'

Here's the thing: he would never make her shoot someone to die. Although it'd seem contradictory. Mahone wouldn't let her get her hands dirty if it wasn't necessary. He would always do the killing; she was there for protection. Unless she wanted to. He stared at her, long and hard.

A few hours later, they were driving, and Mahone called Kim to let him know they were back in. In the trunk, there was the lifeless body of the agent, with four shots in the head, chest, and stomach, and an Alexandria with blood on her face and hands. No hint of humanity left in her eyes for that night.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

20 hours. 20 fucking hours of continuous driving. That was the total estimated time it takes to drive from Chicago to Durango. And Alexandria would only be there for a maximum of two hours, and then she'd have to go back. So, 42 hours. It was a personal situation, so they weren't allowed to use helicopters or private jets.

42 hours.

None that he cared at all. As soon as they arrived at the office, they were informed that the brothers had managed to kidnap a cameraman and were broadcasting a message to the local news. The intelligence unit was deciphering the message, trying to gather as much information as possible to locate the escapees. Alexander was ready for the action, so much so that he barely said goodbye to her, and he almost forgot to give her the envelope with the money for gas, food, and the other things she needed to buy.

42 hours.

She parked right next to Pam's car. Oh, the irony. Grabbing the white coat and the face mask, she entered the hospital, trying to be as discreet as possible, blending with the other doctors. It was unbelievably easy to sneak into a hospital unnoticed. A few minutes later, she saw Pam asleep in the waiting room. Wandering through the halls close to where she was, she found the room.

He was also asleep. Ironically, the vivid image of his father a couple of days ago. From her backpack, she grabbed the astronaut stuffed animal, the bedtime storybooks, and the picture of Cameron with his dad and placed them on the bedside table. To this day, she swears that she was fast enough and didn't make any noise, but with kids, you could never be sure.

'Hello, Miss Jones.'

'Hello Cameron.'

Cameron was a very special boy. He'd always been since the day he was born. Very mature for his age, he seemed to understand the shenanigans of his father's work better than anyone. He had a deep admiration for the space and the universe. Alexandria could say that she was the one who started it all after she gave him that rocket toy from when they had an operation in Texas.

'My dad sent you... I'd thought so; I know he feels guilty, but he is not.'

'You should ask your mother to call him then.'

'I will. Those books look interesting. Are you going to read them to me?'

'Just one, okay?'

He came a little bit earlier than expected. It was the worst storm anyone could've ever predicted, and Pam was fully dilated when the car decided to stop functioning. Alexander went to God-knows-where for help when she arrived. Pam was not happy to see her there, but Mahone's voice sounded unbelievably desperate through the phone, and she had no other option but to get there. An hour later, Mahone returned home. He had been trapped inside his neighbor's house because it started flooding. When he arrived, it was an interesting picture: the paramedics were treating Pam as she fainted after giving birth, and Alexandria was in a corner, covered in aluminum sheets, rocking the baby. The first person that Cameron saw in his life was her.

Growing up, Pam never let her babysit Cameron or even be alone with her for more than a couple of minutes; they always maintained a special bond. So, you could guess that, with each line she read from "The Star That Wanted Friends," her heart ached a little more just thinking about how he ended up being a victim of this whole situation. They couldn't fail—not again.

'The end. I need to go.'

'It's okay. Tell my dad I say hi.'

'I will. Take care, Cameron.'

'You too, Miss Jones.'

'What have I told you to call me?'

'You too, Miss Brie.'

It ended up being 43 hours.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

'So, it was a fake message, and the target was Tancredi, not President Reynolds?'

'Yes, he made this whole strategy for her to receive a message to where and when they were going to run away.'

'And?'

'Let them think they fooled us. I have something under my sleeve.'

'That's why we are in Fox River?'

'Yes, oh, and also, Wheeler is starting to suspect. IAB told him to inform them of our moves.'

'Bullshit.'

'And well... about...'

'In and out, nobody noticed me.'

'Thank you, Brie.'

They entered the interrogation room at Fox River, taking their usual places. In front of them, the ghost of what was once the C.O. Brad Bellick. He had been beaten up badly, but honestly? He still had this air of superiority that Alexandria hated. For the next couple of minutes, she had to pretend that she agreed with everything Alexander was saying and that she totally knew that he was the one able to decipher Scofield's message. That's why Mahone was offering him to become "part" of the team.

'I've got very powerful people behind me that want me to finish my job. They can push the quickest habeas corpus proceedings the courts have ever seen. The paperwork's sitting on the right person's desk as we speak, setting forth all the constitutional violations in your prosecution, It's just waiting to be rubber-stamped.'

'And what do I have to do?'

'You just find those cons. Only this time, you are going to do it for me. Unofficially under the radar, no paper trail. I need a junkyard dog who's willing to do the ugly things it takes to bring a con to justice.'

'What about her? Isn't she your usual dog?'

'Oh she's not a dog, she's a lioness. So, are you my dog, Brad?'

'Damn hell yeah, I am.'

'So, Patoshik.'

Chapter Text

The grain elevator was about 100 feet tall. The silhouette of Charles “Haywire” Patoshik was barely visible from the ground. Well, you could see him more clearly if you were wearing shades like Alexander. Alexandria had forgotten hers. It was unlikely for her to be late, even for 2 minutes, like that morning: Mahone had to check in two different watches to verify that he was not the one wrong. She didn’t explain, and he didn’t ask any questions; he had a vague idea of her reasons.

Yet he had no idea. The accumulation of feelings from the past days finally got to her, and she returned to her apartment after Fox River. The emptiness surrounding the small cactus on her window was the straw that broke the camel's back.

One hit. Two hits. Ten hits. A thousand. Her knuckles felt like fire. The sweat was dripping from her forehead. But she didn’t care. The punch bag was receiving the beating of a lifetime. She was angry. So angry that she was capable of ripping the bag from the ceiling and continuing punching it until it became unusable. Minutes passed and then hours. By 5 AM, she was surprised that her neighbors hadn’t called the police on her.

Of course, she noticed when the fury became pure sadness, but she didn’t stop for that; on the contrary, her pace increased. Deep down, she was relieved that the brothers kept escaping. Because as long as Scofield and Burrows were alive, her days with Alexander were not numbered: when he confessed the thing about “the Company” and how his main objective was to finish his mission to finally be with Cameron and Pam, trying to reconstruct what his life was some years ago, she felt her soul crashing.

What was she going to do when this all ended? There was no one waiting for her at the end of the line. No kids, no partner, no family, no pets, no friends, no nothing. She only had Alexander in her life, but again, he was not hers. And the past couple of days cemented in her the idea that he would not give a shit about her once the case was closed. She’d always believed that deep inside, he cared about her in his own way. Why else did he do everything he did? She forced herself to believe for six years that caring was the answer, but now, multiple answers were spliced one on top of the other, burying her initial thoughts with shame.

It was always a “Brie, can you?” “Brie, do you?” “Brie, I need you to…” followed by something along the lines of “It’s the last time,” “It’s for Cameron,” “It’s for me,” “It’s for my wife.” Of course. For my ex-wife, that hates the shit out of you. For my ex-wife, who I will go back to in a heartbeat. And she did all that. Every single thing he asked. She couldn’t say she did it with a smile, but she finished each task. Her job from the beginning was to return him safe and sound to Pam. Nothing else. The job was just a job. And the sex was just sex. And the promises were just promises… because what the hell did “we are going to be free” mean?

Nothing, it meant nothing. The meaning of freedom had never included her name. Her few instances of sleep that night took place on the floor. Funny how she felt her heart breaking, even though she swore it hadn’t been beating for a very long time.

She looked up again. Patoshik looked like he didn’t know where he was, pacing around and looking down constantly. It was going to be a nightmare guiding him down. And the worst part was that at least thirty people, plus the local police, were surrounding the grain elevator, so killing him was not going to be easy. Kim’s orders were clear: he needed to go. The crime? Having been Scofield’s cellmate before his permanent transfer to the Psychiatric Ward and escaping with him. Just like that. Maybe he knew something. Maybe he didn’t. But killing was always the answer. Mahone and Jones approached the step ladder, but he motioned her to step aside before even touching the first step.

‘It is too high for you.’

‘I’ll be fine.’ He quickly swallowed one of his pills and continued to climb up. He became smaller and smaller until he reached the top. They were probably talking about what Patoshik did to his parents or to that girl’s dad. How he cold-blooded murdered them because they were bad people. People who hurt him and others.

‘He’s taking his time.’ Bellick (for some reason) decided to stand next to her as they continued to look up.

‘The man is out of his mind; it is expected that-‘

Everything became quiet. The radio from the police patrol stopped making noises, the birds nearby stopped singing, and the quiet chitchat from the neighbors ceased. The only sound that reigned was the sound of something falling fast. Or rather, someone falling fast. In a fraction of a second, Patoshik went from sitting on the edge of the grain elevator to jumping into the void. All the people there quickly looked away or covered their eyes, knowing exactly what would be the end of his trajectory.

And she couldn’t stop staring. Everything was happening in slow motion.

Suddenly, it wasn’t a grain elevator but a water tower. Patoshik’s stripped shirt morphed into a long white dress, and his factions changed piece by piece until there was a woman instead. She couldn’t remember her face. She just remembered her stare, long, insecure, hopeless… just like Patoshik’s. It was the middle of the summer, or at least that’s how her brain recalls it. Alexandria was wearing a dress. That ugly, horrible, goddamn white dress. And for the final touch, she was waiting for the metallic taste in her mouth and the sensation of being bathed by a splash of blood. The dress wasn’t white anymore.

But that sensation never came. Instead, she felt a strong pull, and she almost fell backward. The splash only reached her shoe. Bellick had acted quickly. He had been calling her name, trying to warn her, but she was in another dimension. A couple of seconds later Patoshik’s body would have crushed her.

‘Are you out of your mind... or are you okay?’ His tone immediately changed from anger to concern.

‘Stop touching me.’

She went straight to the van. People started spreading out, going back to their businesses. She stared blankly in front of her. She would probably need to move; the van was on the way of the M.E.s and the paramedics. But she couldn’t start the car. She couldn’t move. It was until she heard the passenger’s door closing that she snapped.

‘You could’ve told me.’

‘Brie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t have another choice.’

‘You did. You always have plenty of options. You went there with one thing in mind, and you did it!’

‘He was not thinking clearly; he wanted to go to Holland on an improvised boat.’

‘You were a few feet away; you could’ve grabbed him! I could have gotten up! I don’t know.’

‘You are right… but up there, it seemed like the only option… I…. I… when I connected the dots and remembered you were there, it was too late… I’m sorry, Brie.’

‘No, you are not.’ She stormed out of the van and started walking away without a clear direction. She could hear Mahone walking close by.

‘I need to be alone!’

‘And I need you to talk to me!’

He grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to face him. Blue found green. Tears slowly accumulated in hers, and the disturbance was still evident in his. He slowly took his hands off her shoulders. Another apology started forming on his lips, but she interrupted him before it could come out.

‘I’m fine.’

‘Are… are you sure?’

‘Yes, and well, it’s been a long time. I should get over it, anyway.’

‘Brie… I…’ Alexander looked at her, frowning. She looked calm, but he noticed her hands shaking slightly upon closer examination and the tears still hidden in her eyes.

‘Franklin is in custody; we should hurry up to interrogate him and send Bellick to find Bagwell.’ She started walking back to the van when he stopped her.

‘Brie.’ He grabbed her by the hand, placing his fingers to feel her pulse. ‘I am truly sorry. Don’t do this to yourself. Please, I care about you.’

‘We need to work.’ She didn’t look at him. ‘Also, you drive.’

They entered the van in silence. The M.E’s had just arrived. She turned to look at the scene once again. Patoshik’s body was lying on the ground, and his heart had stopped beating. Alexandria looked at him: he was in the same position as her last night, except he wouldn’t have to wake up the following day. She envied him so much.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He threw up three times: the first time because he couldn’t shake the vision of Patoshik’s body crashing to the floor. The second time, because of what Kim told him to do with C-Note next. And the third one because of what happened with Brie. Despite what she may be thinking, he wasn’t thinking straight and only realized the implications of his actions after they happened.

He was expecting her initial reaction but not how she handled the rest. Of course, she wasn’t calm; her heart was beating violently when he felt it, but she hid it so well on the outside that it was scary. He almost crashed three times on their way to the office and even declined a call from Pam because he kept staring at her. At one point, she got desperate, and they switched places.

Alexander was a man of many fears, contrary to what his appearance might suggest: heights, something happening to his family, sharks, dying alone, the bottom of the sea… but none of them would actually make him lose sleep. And he knew the reason why. Because in those situations, he was sure Alexandria would be by his side. When she left the car and started walking away, he knew she needed time alone. But he followed her quickly until he reached her. Apart from the sensation of unease after Patoshik’s death, he was feeling something else for the first time in his life: fear. Fear that she might not come back.

He wasn’t stupid. He was aware of how he had been abusing her trust and pushing her limits lately, and even though he wanted to justify himself with everything that the Company was making him do, it wasn’t fair. She had done more than she was supposed to do, in all senses: she would listen to him, she understood his fears, she was there when he felt lost and would guide him to where he needed to be. Even after all his years married to Pam, they never managed to have common ground in work-related stuff; she was never able to understand, not like Brie did.

And, of course, there was the intimacy part. The first time they had sex, it was a desperate situation. Like an instinct, they both needed to be fulfilled. It was rough, intense, sweaty, and yes, it was great. She was profoundly asleep afterward, so she probably didn’t remember or notice, but he did. He did something he still felt incredibly guilty for. He held her. Very close to him. And for the first time in years, he felt he belonged entirely. To this day, thinking about that made him feel strange.

The whole purpose of working for the company and completing this mission was to return to Pam and Cameron and continue where they left off. The sentence's implications included that it would be his last mission with the bureau and, therefore, his last mission with Alexandria. She would be transferred and assigned to another partner, and they would say their last goodbyes as Pam would not let her close by. Just the thought of all those things made his blood boil. It would always be Jones and Mahone; they came in pairs.

He was pretending everything was fine. They were halfway there: Sucre, Bagwell, Scofield, and Burrows were the only ones missing from the Fox River’s Eight. The first two had been seen in Mexico, and the two latter were just a matter of deciphering the rest of Scofield’s plan. Benjamin “C-Note” Franklin had been apprehended and was collaborating with the FBI in exchange for his wife’s freedom and his daughter’s medical care. Supposedly, he was going to contact him through a website, but to be honest, Alexander didn’t think that might work.

He was pretending everything was fine. Alexandria had been remarkably calm and never mentioned the incident again. Literally, nothing in her attitude or work had changed, but he noticed an aura of distance between them. The usual silence while working felt unnatural; the conversations didn’t feel as safe as before. It was hard to explain, and he didn’t know what to do because how do you repair something seemingly unbroken? She wasn’t a robot. He knew she had feelings, emotions, a soul. But after that day, he felt that a door had closed, a door that used to be open only for him.

He was pretending everything was fine. The moment he stepped into his office, he felt the air changing. It was just a matter of time before people started gossiping, judging his choices, and questioning the outcome of his being in charge. He ignored the stares from Wheeler and Lang and how the first one started confronting him more often than usual. He was slowly losing his reputation and the respect of his workers. The last drop came in the form of Brad Bellick, suddenly appearing at his office, claiming his reward money in front of all his agents.

Wheeler stared at her long and hard after she didn’t enter Mahone’s office with him and Bellick. She let him deal with him alone. For instance, she wasn’t on board with having him on the “team.” Yes, it had been helpful, and certainly, the former C.O. had a gift for tracing convicts, but if they weren’t dealing with the demands from the Company, they would’ve done all of that already.

She just watched Mahone lose his patience and threaten Bellick. She couldn’t hear them and was too far away to read his lips, but she knew his posture and how his nostrils would flare whenever he wanted to intimidate someone. She continued scribbling down on her notepad, avoiding the stares of her co-workers and her apparent indifference to whatever was happening at her boss’ office.

After a while, she went out to find something to eat when she saw Bellick approaching down the aisle. He was staring at some documents, muttering something to himself, when he saw her. Unfortunately, he started talking to her.

‘Hi… I didn’t see you in there.’

‘You shouldn’t have come; he hates when people do that.’

‘Yeah, I noticed that… hey, since that day I… well… I have been wondering how are you. You seemed pretty upset, like you were in a trance.’

‘I’m okay.’

‘Are you sure? I know that I don’t know you very well, but I can tell when people are not coping well with something and-‘

‘You said it yourself: you don’t know me. I’m fine. Do whatever Alexander asked you to.’ She was starting to lose her patience.

‘I mean, if you ever want to talk, we are a team, right?’

‘Bellick. Go.’

‘Okay, okay, I get it. But I have another question. Why does he call you Brie if your name is Alexandria?’

‘Why do they call you Brad if your name is asshole?’

He ignored her comment. ‘Everyone calls him Alex or Mahone, and you call him Alexander. Everyone calls you Alexandria or Jones, and he calls you Brie. I heard you talking in the van.’

‘What the hell do you want?’

‘Nothing. I just wanted to point that out. It seemed… curious. That’s all. And remember, if you need to get it out of your chest, call me.’

She threw a perfectly delicious sandwich to the floor. As if by magic, another one appeared next to her, along with Alexander. He was staring right at where Bellick had been standing.

‘What was he about?’

‘Talking.’

‘Talking about what?’

‘What happened. He wanted to make sure I was okay.’

‘What? Why? Did you tell him something? Did he do something?’

The wrinkle between her eyebrows made its appearance. ‘No?’

‘If he tries anything, you tell me, okay? I don't like him sticking his nose where it doesn't belong, and less if it’s with you… the mission, I mean.’

‘Right…’

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Love: the thing capable of giving you strength or taking you down. The motor of history (tied up with money). Oh, the things people were able to do. It was like a drug, and those addicts could deny all they wanted, but they would go back for more. You cannot hide it.

A man in love was a man in trouble. The heart wants what it wants; to achieve it, it would make the most stupid decisions. Michael Scofield returned to Chicago to chat with President Reynolds and clean his brother’s name. All good in theory, but there was an additional step to that plan: Sara Tancredi. He came back for her as well. If you start adding people out of the blue to your plans, you get more loose ends, which can only ruin you. But they were two young people in love.

Mahone and Jones deduced the hotel where the brothers and Tancredi were staying and were about to go to the room when he stopped right in his tracks. His spider webs tensed and multiplied as he looked around. A plan formed in his mind.

‘We need to separate.’

‘Last time…’

‘Yes, I know. I was shot, and before that, I was locked in a cage. But I have a plan, and I need you to stick by it, okay?’

‘That’s my job.’

He ignored that they were running against time for a second and stopped to look at her. ‘Brie…’ He needed to feel their connection to ensure they were still in sync. Otherwise, nothing would work. ‘Do you trust me?’

‘We don’t have time for this, Alexander, tell me the plan.’ Even with the harsh answer, he noted the faintest of flames in her eyes. She was still there with him. Barely, but still. He was about to do something crazy, but the public place and the reminder that the brothers might be escaping immediately stopped him.

Chapter Text

Sara Tancredi was smarter than he expected but not smarter than him. She noticed right away his shaky hands and the bag under his eyes. Even though he was the one holding the gun, her guessing how he started using drugs, how he felt all the time, and how he might not be able to control it anymore made him feel like the prey. The plan was to wait until Scofield called her with further instructions and use her to get him, but the mess happening in Alexander’s brain put him at a disadvantage. When she had the chance, she took his gun and escaped the hotel room—a tragedy.

Except that he was Alexander Mahone. And even in his darkest moments, he could use that brain of his to his advantage. He had previously taken off the bullets from his gun, and Alexandria was waiting outside to follow Tancredi. Everything was going according to plan. Except that he was Alexander Mahone. And even he underestimated the power of love.

Alexandria was following her in her car; she was heading towards the docks. Burrows and Scofield were probably already on a boat to escape: the latest news revealed that President Reynolds was resigning, and without her in power, Burrows would never obtain the absolution. The only logical answer was to disappear, and of course, Scofield would take Sara with them. When she was approaching the docks, she turned right instead of left, and a few minutes later, she descended from the vehicle. Mahone arrived a few minutes later.

He was furious, cursing around as Sara Tancredi was being detained. It was their last shot to get the brothers, and the stupid little doctor decided to sacrifice herself once again so that they could escape. Even if he were able to continue his investigations, his office was starting to crumble apart. He could feel the tension in the air whenever he would walk in, and he was almost sure that one of these days, Sullins would return to talk to him: Shales, Abruzzi, Apolskis, Patoshik, Franklin. So many deaths were accumulating on his back. He could not work properly; the stares from his colleagues would haunt him, as well as all the whispers and noises. He was even convinced that they were spying on him at his house.

The chaos in his mind faded as he entered Alexandria’s car. He was looking at him, waiting for him to calm down. When he was about to start cursing again, she placed her hand on his.

‘I need to show you something.’

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He could recall the day he gave her that apartment. Part of him felt guilty, as it wasn’t a nice neighborhood or even close to the office, but it was enough, discreet, and hers. He had spent so many nights there, and even after all this time, he still found it curious that Alexandria had never bothered to decorate the place. It was just the furniture that came with the apartment, plus her exercise equipment, the coffee maker, and the small cactus on the window that Cameron gave her. It was still green and beautiful: she was great with plants, although she’d never admit it.

This time, it was different. Instead of the grey walls, he opened the door to thousands of papers hanging on the walls. A carbon copy of the documents, maps, and information he had in his office, without the curious looks and gossip that came with it. Everything was there.

‘Wait a second.’

‘I started making a security copy of everything when you told me about the Company. You know, in case the office started suspecting.’

He approached the walls. He couldn’t believe it. They could work from there without interruptions, without people sticking their noses. She even had the map from Mexico and all the information that Bellick had been giving them, the things they couldn’t display at the office.

‘So, we know that he went in a boat, but the question is, where? I have all the destinations for all the boats that were there today. The answer is definitely on his tattoos, but we must identify which one. I’ll start with the sketches we recovered from his hard drive; you can look at the other pictures. Oh, and the coffee maker is in the bedroom, I accidentally covered my only outlet.’

He just stood there as she started working on the images. All the stress and worry suddenly lifted off his shoulders. He knew he should start working right away, but if Scofield and Burrows were on a boat, that meant that it would take some time to get where they needed to be, right? He quickly approached her, throwing his arms around her. The smell of her shampoo was filling his lungs. He’d never admit it, but the Midazolam didn’t give him enough compared to what that essence made him feel.

He kissed her long and hard. She didn’t answer at first but eventually gave in, kissing him back with the same intensity. Items of clothing started flying around. They didn’t even make it to the room. Their naked dance was taking place all over the living room, surrounded by thousands of files from their investigation. Usually, he wouldn’t kiss her that much; he would prioritize other activities if you know what I mean. But right now, he only wanted to feel her lips, take every one of her moans. One of his hands was entangled in her hair while the other explored every inch of her body. The pace was all over the place, but eventually, they found a nice calm one. Some would say, by their rhythm, that they were making love, but that sentence didn’t exist in their vocabulary. At least, that is how they would see it.

The couch wasn’t that big, so afterward, they had to be very close. Closer than they wanted to be. He covered both of them with the blanket on the couch, holding her in his arms. None of them were talking, but funnily enough, they were thinking the same thing: if they could only freeze time and be there forever. No more chasing, no more Scofield, no more plans, no more Kim, no more Company. Just be there, not worrying all the damn time. But it wasn’t possible. There was no possible outcome in which the only thing that mattered was not to wake up the person next to them.

As usual, the following morning, none of the events from last night were discussed. She handed him a cup of coffee, and he made breakfast. Surprisingly, he was a great cook. When the clock marked 7:00, they were already working on the case. Well, mostly Alexandria, as Mahone, not even with the caffeine and a shower, could wake up completely. If sleeping at Alexandria’s apartment had a downside, it was that around 6 AM, you would wake up to the repetitive sound of someone punching something with all their might. She was extremely constant with her training, so much so that she didn’t need an alarm to wake up; it was on her system naturally. So he also was awake at 6 AM.

Their naked dance was nothing compared to the dance that their minds did. It was outstanding how they were always in sync, proposing new theories per minute and analyzing everything with extreme detail. They both called in sick seven days in a row. The amount of evidence going around was overwhelming, but they were running on caffeine, exercise, and sex, so nothing was able to stop them. Getting away from the office was the best decision in a long time.

‘I’m starting to believe those are not symbols but the Greek alphabet.’

‘The ones we pulled out from the original sketches?’

‘All this time, we were going crazy, trying to figure out which tattoo was next, but he ordered them from the beginning.’

‘Give me those sketches.’

‘Brie, I don’t think you should be the one…’

‘You know I know that alphabet by heart; let me do it.’

They started organizing the sketches, trying to find the omega, the last letter of the alphabet, the last step of Scofield’s plan. The omega was a drawing of Christ in a Rose, with the numbers 617 scribbled at the bottom. It could be anything: a Bible verse, a code, or a date.

The entire office was surprised when they arrived, as if they hadn’t disappeared for a week. Immediately, they started going through Scofield’s file, making all agents work on deciphering the Christ in a Rose tattoo. Even though nobody seemed to know what was happening, all the agents started cooperating. By the end of the day, it had become clearer: all the clues pointed out to a location in Panama and a boat he had bought some time ago under one specific name: Scofield’s mother’s name was Christina Rose. When they were about to start making phone calls to the embassy in Panama, a call from Kim came to ruin everyone’s fun.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Wheeler. Agent Wheeler. Agent fucking Wheeler.

For one second, he was Alexandria’s most hated person; then, the hierarchy changed to its usual order. Those blonde curls were going to be their ruin. They should’ve seen it coming, but honestly? It was extremely painful (and annoying) to know that the kid who used to “look up” to Mahone was stabbing him in his back.

Kim’s call was to inform that Franklin was not dead and was also being released from custody. Weeks ago, after Patoshik, Bill Kim talked to Alexander, letting him know that he couldn’t go around killing the cons like there was no tomorrow. People were starting to talk. So, he told him he needed a “death without questions”; that’s why he gave C-Note a rope. But everything failed, and the doctors were able to resuscitate him. Now, he was cooperating with IAB to make Mahone pay for everything he did.

The thing is, that wasn’t the only piece of evidence that they had against him. Someone had been leaking information. Someone was reporting each suspicious action to his superiors. And that someone was Wheeler. There was a reason why he would disappear constantly from the office, despite the need to have all hands on deck for Scofield.

Like a rat, he was hiding in the parking lot. Alexandria saw him trembling as he talked to someone on the phone. Probably Sullins. She signaled to Alexander that she had found him and slowly approached the vehicle. He still hadn’t learned the art of being alert at all times. He froze at the feeling of a pistol pointing directly to his neck. Turning around slowly, he looked at Alexandria straight in the eye. She didn’t have to say a word; he understood and left the vehicle. Alexander arrived shortly after.

‘You don’t want to do this, okay? Just take a moment…’ Wheeler’s voice was shaky.

‘If you’re going to stab me in the back, Agent Wheeler, be smart enough to cover up the knife! You go and visit Franklin three times this week, called Sullins twice a day, didn’t you learn anything working for me?’

Of course, he wasn’t stupid. In fact, Jones and Mahone both talked about how Wheeler had potential and was becoming a real agent by the day. He wanted him to know it was him. The one who figured it out. The one who was going to make “justice.”

‘You are a killer, Alex.’

‘Is that so?’

‘You can erase me too. Come on, Jones, do it; I know you’ve wanted to do that for a long time. But it’s not gonna erase the very real fact that you’re gonna spend the rest of your life in prison.’

As tempting as the offer was, Mahone gave her the sign to lower her gun. ‘You know, you remind me of myself when I was a young agent.’

‘I wish I could take that as a compliment.’

‘That’s some real fine work, Wheeler. Good job. Don’t you let anyone scare you into doing the wrong thing.’

‘Let me take you in. Whatever mess you’re in, we can clean it up.’

‘There’s only one way to clean this… one way. Come on Jones, let’s leave the kid do whatever he wants to do.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

They had to add reckless driving to all their crimes. Although they left the office discreetly, as soon as they were on the street, it was a battle against time. The moment she opened the door to the apartment, the moment Plan C took place. What was Plan C about? Disappearing. He cleaned up the apartment, and she went for the bags. The letters addressing Pam and Cameron just needed their stamp. It was a last-minute resource, but the option was always there. Ever since that night, they created all possible scenarios that could happen. Honestly, they were lucky that Plan C was the one they ended up using. They were about to go when Kim appeared at the door.

‘You two going somewhere?’

‘I don’t know. Are we?’ Alexander was not looking for a fight, but Alexandria placed herself between him and Kim anyway.

‘Come on, you know I don’t like to get my hands dirty.’

‘You know I would kill you right here if I thought it would give me an ounce of peace.’ Ok, maybe it was a good idea to continue being a human shield.

‘And what would give you peace?’

‘Life, at the end of the tunnel. For me, for my family. And now what?’

Rest in Peace, Plan C; you had a good ride. Kim started talking about a new strategy involving Theodore Bagwell to trap Sucre, Burrows, and Scofield. If Alexander could get that done, Kim would move the right people, and his file would be clean. He would be a free man. There was little to choose from: people registered their office as they spoke, and Sullins had taken over the office, gathering evidence that would translate into years behind bars. Also, the company was planning something much bigger to silence the brothers finally. It was a relatively straightforward plan: a foreign country, different language, different rules, no witnesses…

‘You’ve come so far.’

‘How much further would I have to go?’

‘Well you are lucky. For this you only have to go to Panama. Come on Alex, Pam and Cameron will be waiting for you when you are back as a hero. I’ll even get you all three to Disneyland.’

Alexandria crumpled up the letters in her hand. Kim didn’t even look at her or acknowledge her when he was speaking. The reward was only for Alexander. Having his life back, his family, what he always wanted… She was just there. It didn’t matter what her outcome was; Kim could’ve killed her right on the spot, and nothing would have been different for Alexander. Even more, it would be better for everyone: she wasn’t working for the Company, so it would be one person less to worry about.

She closed her eyes. Once again, all her dreams of getting over with all of this were destroyed. As crazy as it sounded, living as a fugitive didn’t bother her at all. They had everything planned: a modest cabin in the middle of nowhere, a farm with animals and edible plants. It would’ve been just Alexander and her. But it was just a dream. Nothing but a fucking dream. She kept her eyes closed as Mahone accepted the deal. However, a loud sound made her open them up. On his way out, Kim knocked over her cactus, destroying the pot. Alexander was already at the door, hurrying her up.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The flight was horrible—lots of turbulence. And on top of everything, they were going to war without a gun. They technically weren’t part of the FBI anymore, so they couldn’t travel with their weapons. Her annoyed expression was an intense contrast to his big grin. Once in the taxi, he dialed the only number he had paid international coverage for. Or rather, he made her pay international coverage.

‘Remember how I always said that the day would come and I’d be done? Leave the bureau, never look back? Today’s the day. I have one more thing to do, and once I do it, everything is gonna fall into place and I’ll be done.’

‘I hope you mean it.’ Even Pam’s voice sounded tired on the phone.

‘Pam, if I didn’t have this job hanging over me anymore… if I were free… I need to know.’

‘I’m not saying no.’

‘I will make it right, I swear to God. And you and me and Cam…’

‘I have to go.’

‘I never stopped loving you, Pam, ever.’

‘Just be safe.’

His grin was even bigger now. She could sense it, although she was looking at the window, her eyes fixed upon the immensity of the sea.

‘Hey, once we are there, I’m going to buy you the best gun I can find. I need that surgeon-like pulse of yours. You cannot fail, Brie. Brie? Are you listening?’

‘Loud and clear, I just hate the heat, you know that.’

He nodded and continued smiling like an idiot. She put on her shades. She hated the warm weather, and the Panamanian sun had no mercy. But for a moment, she was grateful. That way, the sweat could mask the tears running down her cheeks.

Chapter Text

She saw Lincoln Burrows from a mile away, but she decided to ignore him. As they approached Scofield, Sucre, and to no one's surprise, Bellick, Lincoln did what she expected. That was one hell of a punch to Alexander's face. She stood on the door's frame as Burrows kept beating the hell out of Alexander. At one point, the fight was even; Mahone started fighting back. But Burrows was a street fighter, and he knew all the dirty tricks; he started going for Mahone's wounds, and at one point, he held him at gunpoint. Alexander glanced at where Alexandria was standing, his eyes questioning why she wasn't doing anything. Letting out a big sigh, she approached the scene and quickly subdued Lincoln, handcuffing him to a nearby pipe.

'Couple of things in the world I'm good at. One of them is looking into a man's eye and knowing when he's beat.'

As it turns out, both brothers were good at deciphering Mahone. It was also because Alexander was losing it. She wasn't sure when was the last time he took his pills, but the man in front of her was a live representation of desperation. He wasn't thinking straight, and she knew it was just a matter of time before he crumbled apart. A few hours later, he was able to contact Scofield.

The cards were on the table: Scofield's plan for Lincoln's life. He wanted to take the money and the boat and disappear. So, in a way, Plan C was still in place. But now it was different. She knew that plan didn't involve her. She was just a pawn in his game, helping him to get rid of the obstacles so he could get on that boat and sail away to the arms of his beloved. She wanted to think otherwise. She wanted to believe that there was a seat and a life vest with her name on that boat and that maybe they would figure it out later. He wasn't even looking at her. He made a couple of phone calls to secure the deal with Kim, forcing him to come to Panama to get the brothers. He also kept pushing Michael, persuading him to make the exchange as soon as possible. And then came the call with Pam.

'We talked about getting back together, about giving it another shot.'

'Yes, and I said that maybe we could.'

Burrows clicking his tongue in disapproval almost made her laugh. Alexander just glanced annoyed at him and continued talking to Pam, facing away from Lincoln and Alexandria.

'Alex, look, it might not work out. You gotta be prepared for that okay? It can't be like it was before.'

'It will never be like before. I know what's important now. I know what matters. Just come be with me, Pam. Be with me.'

She was standing behind Lincoln, "keeping an eye on him." They were both listening to Alexander's conversation. Burrows found it funny and ironic how his father's killer was a family man, after all. Jones' heart was hanging by a thread. Each word hurt worse than the last one. If it wasn't obvious by this point, she could finally say it aloud. Falling in love with Alexander Mahone had been the worst mistake of her life. She tried so hard to suppress her feelings, burying any sign of emotion. But he played with her. Each time she was sure her affection had passed, he had managed to revive those feelings, faking that he cared about her, that there was a future for both of them.

It wasn't fair. She had been there for him when no one was. When Pam told him he was a monster and took Cameron away. She was there in sickness and in health. She did everything for him. And the only thing he did was lie to her and play with her heart. She never planned on falling in love. It didn't start like that. She wished she could go back in time and kill those emotions. Accept that date with Wheeler. But she had given up everything to go with him, out of gratefulness at first, and then... Cursed be the day she saw him as someone more than her partner! Cursed be the day he told her she was everything to him! Cursed be the day he made her feel loved for the first time in her life! Cursed be the...

She noticed right away what he was trying to do. They were in an old warehouse, and the pipes were too old and oxidized. He was struggling and failing to be discreet. She quietly approached him, and in a whisper, for him alone, she told him something that made him open his eyes wide.

'It unscrews the other way.'

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

'Michael that's a beautiful boat.'

'Just promise me you'll change the name when you take it. I don't think my mother would've approved of you.'

Scofield made his triumphal entrance a few hours later. He had brought the boat and was trying to persuade Alexander to uncuff his brother, but Mahone had other plans. Kim had also arrived, making him the last piece of his plan. He wanted a double-cross: kill Kim and blame the brothers. It was brilliant, except that none of the involved were that stupid. Alexandria knew that Scofield had something between his hands; he wouldn't hand out the money or the boat that easily. And Kim, well, she heard his men arriving at the warehouse.

'Great minds think alike, hey Alex?'

Kim still had that annoying smile on his face. He wasn't scared at all. Alexander was surrounded, but instead of pointing his gun at Kim or starting to fire, he turned to look at Alexandria and pointed at her instead.

'WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WAITING FOR? KILL THEM ALL! THAT'S THE ONLY FUCKING REASON YOU ARE HERE!'

The sound of a pipe falling was the detonator. Burrows had freed himself. She started shooting at Kim and his men as the brothers escaped. Alexander also fired a few shots but started running away as well. She and Kim's men were the only ones at the warehouse. The bullets kept flying around- At one point, one of them attacked her from the back, trying to choke her. They were outnumbering her, and she was about to lose. But they didn't count her being furious and hurt, which was a dangerous combination. She kicked the man repeatedly, freeing herself, and with a combination of her bare hands and a couple of bullets, she managed to kill them all.

When she finally got out of the warehouse, she wished a stray bullet had hit her. She was expecting it, but seeing it become true was more painful than expected. He was so far away that she could barely see him. She sat on the dock, watching him getting smaller and smaller. He left her. She could hear the faint sound of the sirens approaching. She knew she had to run from there but couldn't move. Instead, she saw her reflection in the water. A pathetic loser stared back at her.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Lincoln followed his brother through the jungle. It had been close. Now, they were boat-less, but they had B.D. Cooper's money, so they could figure it out later. After paying the kid who placed an obscene quantity of cocaine in the Christina Rose, they approached their new boat, slightly smaller but enough for him, Michael, and Sara, who was waiting inside. The Disney-like encounter was cut short. In a matter of seconds, Kim had found them, and before he was able to pull the trigger, Sara shot him. After that, dozens of police cars arrived at the scene, and they were forced to run once again.

Burrows didn't notice when he lost them. He just kept running. Suddenly, a hand was covering his mouth, and he was forced to the ground. He looked up to find Jones, signaling him to shut up. Not knowing what was going on and, of course, not trusting her, he started walking away when she pushed him again to the ground. Then he noticed it: the cops that were chasing him walked past them. When he felt like the danger had passed, he turned to look at her, but she had disappeared.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

They dedicated 5 minutes of the local news to him. An American in a boat called the Christina Rose had been detained for cocaine possession. They said something else, but the radio signal and her Spanish weren't that good. They didn't mention his name, but there was no need. She managed to catch some other piece of information: Sona. The taxi driver looked at her like she was crazy when she asked him to take her there. It was raining, and it was very late. Some might say she was a masochist, wanting to see him one more time. But she didn't want to see him because of that. She wanted to know the place where he would rot in hell.

She also saw Burrows in the distance. So, something definitely had happened in that chase. A part of her was sorry about Scofield, but given his background, he would be out in less than a week or so. Then, she saw the van arrived.

He was cuffed and also had shackles on. His black jacket and jeans were a big contrast to his signature suit. He looked tired and confused. He kept looking everywhere, trying to see something or maybe someone. She was standing under the rain, next to a lamppost, protected by an umbrella she bought at a dollar store. She wasn't sure if he saw her, but it seemed like it. He was facing her direction, and he had that sad look on his face. In contrast, her eyes only reflected pure hate.

The guards shout for him to move. The prison's doors opened up. It was dark as hell, and Alexandria couldn't distinguish anything from the inside, just darkness. They uncuffed him and removed his shackles. He managed to look back for a second, and she could see some movement from his lips. Hopefully, the last thing he would ever say to her.

"I'm sorry."

Chapter Text

For someone used to Chicago’s cruel winters and changing weather, the Panamanian sun was the closest experience to walking through the driest of deserts. Some might say that the first days were the worst, but it was a matter of time before you could get used to it. Well, that could apply if you actually stepped out of your hotel room once in a while. The following two days after his arrest were a blurry memory. She cried herself to sleep many times, waking up only to shower and order room service, and then continued crying and sleeping.

Not even the beautiful sight of the jungle and the ocean could cheer her up. He abandoned her to her luck. She couldn’t even return to Chicago, as she was also on the run. They had sent an order to capture her upon entering the country. The money was getting scarce, and she knew it was a matter of time before the hotel kicked her out.

She knew that Scofield had also been detained and that Burrows and Tancredi were probably around, but she couldn’t just go to them, not after everything that had happened. She didn’t even know why she had helped Burrows; maybe it was just the stupid programming of her brain trying to protect someone. What was she supposed to do now? She was completely alone.

The taxi driver had told her that she could go and visit people in Sona, she just needed to sign the agreement that she was responsible of anything that could happen there. Sona was no-man’s-land. It was a prison where the worst of humanity was reunited. Some time ago, the guards gave up and let them rule themselves: there were fights all the time, and the loser’s bodies piling up each day. They had their own “government” system, ruled by someone named “Lechero”, one of the worst criminals you could imagine. In other words, it was hell on earth.

She didn’t know if he could survive: he had excellent fighting skills, but she knew he was running out of Midazolam. Withdrawal was going to be end of him. And even if he managed to survive his lack of drugs, Scofield was also in there, probably seeking vengeance. That, plus the lack of water and food (the truck would only go inside once in a while). She hated him, but yet, she was worried. As she was checking out of the hotel, trying to figure out what to do next, the call came.

‘Hello Miss Brie, I don’t have much time, I took my mom’s phone, can I speak to my dad?’

‘Cameron? How did you get this number?’

‘It was under my mom’s blocked numbers. It was the only one so I assumed it was you. Can I speak to my dad?’

‘Cameron…I’m… I’m no longer working with him.’

‘What did he do?’

‘Nothing, we just decided to no longer work together.’

‘You are lying, I can tell. Well if he’s still around can you tell him he is invited to my birthday party next month? It’s going to be about secret agents.’

‘I bet your mom is thrilled.’

‘Yes… I’d invite you, but my mom doesn’t want you here.’

‘I know that Cameron.’

‘Well, could you find my dad and just tell him that? Then you can continue your fight.’

‘I will, Cameron, take care.’

‘Goodbye Miss Brie, and thank you.’

Cameron didn’t know yet, but he had superpowers. She let out a big sigh and called a taxi to take her to Sona. It was a stupid quest. He was not getting out next month. She didn’t know if Pam knew. She stopped being his emergency contact years ago. It was Alexandria the one who received those kind of calls. What the hell would she tell him? “hey your son still remembers you and invites you to his party even though you are not getting out of there anywhere soon?” It seemed cruel. But again, she had never experienced before the pain that he’d caused her.

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His skin was not used to that kind of weather. He had a burning sensation all over him and he was sure he had severe damage. The first hours of sunlight were the worst of them all. Mainly because he didn’t have a cell, he was sleeping on the floor, wherever it was possible to lie down for a few seconds. He was starving; the only water left was the ponds formed after the rain. Even with that, he was grateful that he was not in Bellick’s position: he didn’t know precisely what the man had done, but he was almost naked, begging around for food and cleaning the latrines. He was at the bottom of the chain of Sona’s jungle.

He even tried to make an alliance with Scofield, but it was useless; he was still angry about his father’s death and rightfully blamed him. It also didn’t help that Lechero had immediately noticed the shaking of his hands and how he seemed to be lost all the time. That was a sign of weakness, and on his conditions, it was the first precursor for an imminent death.

Although, he didn’t know if he preferred that destiny. The few hours he was able to sleep always ended in a nightmare. The days were even worse: he kept reproducing the deaths of Shales, Abruzzi, Apolskis, and Patoshik; he remembered his office, the prestige he once had, the people that used to admire him; Pam and Cameron’s pictures in his wallet no longer smiling at him, but rather seeing him like a monster; and most importantly, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Each time he remembered his last words to her or how she looked at him, he wanted to destroy everything in front of him. Guilt was eating him alive. Forget about the drug possession charges; the reality is that his actual crime was how he treated Alexandria, and now he was paying the price for it. He had acted on impulse, blinded by the desire to escape, hurting the only person that he could count on in the process.

If he had only one wish right now, he would have used it to talk to her one last time. Tell her how sorry he was, how much he missed her… because he did. He missed her company, rare laugh, the confidence that only her presence could give him. He kept searching for those green eyes that were the only ones capable of calming his heart, letting him know everything would be okay. She probably was far away, enjoying her new life, finally free from the cancer that he was.

It was rare to him that he was feeling more pain thinking about Brie than thinking about Pam. He used his only call to tell her to forget he ever existed, and she answered nothing. But she was probably fine, or at least she would be. He knew she had been dating since the divorce, and she seemed happy and getting her life back. Pam herself told him that it might not work again. That was something he had never considered; he always thought it would be the three of them again. He never stopped to think that she might had moved on, and that she wanted to live a new life with someone else. So, he had been risking everything for probably nothing.

Of course there was also Cameron: when he was born, he made the firm decision that nothing would make him leave his son, he was going to have a great father figure unlike him. He wanted a family for him, a complete one. But that dream had been dead long ago, he just didn’t want to face it. Just like didn’t want to face that he was nothing but a killer, a bloodthirsty man.

Lechero had two rules: if you had a problem with another inmate, you had to ask for a “chicken foot”. That was symbol for a fight, and if you received it, you had to face whoever sent it to you. The twist was that only one of the opponents could end up alive. Not even 24 hours after arriving at Sona, Scofield found the chicken foot on his cell. He was about to win his fight, when the other inmate took out a knife, ready to kill Michael. Alexander didn’t know what got into him, but he jumped between them and snapped the guy’s neck in seconds, killing him instantly. The second rule was that no weapons were allowed. He had helped Scofield and for what? To feel something? To show off? To pay his debt to him? He didn’t know.

The only thing worse than seeing Scofield every day, knowing that he would not help him, was listening to his name every day, sometimes twice a day. Whenever an inmate had a visit, they would announce it for everyone, and since his arrival, it was always: “Scofield, visit!” “Márquez, visit!” “James, visit!” and so on. Some of the people inside still had families or people caring about them. And him… well he lost the only person that would visit him.

Or maybe she wouldn’t. He had noticed that on the last couple of weeks, she seemed sad or disappointed whenever he talked to her. Like she didn’t want to be there anymore. And he got it. Now that he had time to think, he realised once again that he had been an asshole, and that it was a miracle that she had stayed with him for as long as she did. Because she was amazing. She had so many qualities, so many things that made her stand out in a crowd of thousands… and he took her for granted. Yes, she was grateful and told him at the beginning that she wanted to work with him in exchanged for everything he did. But any relationship needed work from both sides (he went through a divorce for God’s sake), and he never did anything for her the following years.

Not that he didn’t want to. Sometimes, they were both asleep in bed, and his intrusive thoughts made him say something along the lines “I want to give you the word, Brie”. Deep inside he knew it was true, but saying it aloud scared him. What were the implications of making true those promises? That’s why whenever he crossed accidentally that barrier between them, he would step back and run away to the things he knew. He’d broken so many promises, and she seemed fine, but he now realized it wasn’t true.

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“Mahone, visit!”

Maybe he was dead by that point. The guard at the entrance told her that there had been a fight yesterday, and that usually it would take 1 or 2 days to take out the body. The “visit area” was just a cage outside the main building, where the cons would go out and talk to their visitors. No privacy or even a place to cover from the sun. A woman was screaming and crying at the entrance, repeating something that Alexandria couldn’t understand but was starting to become annoying. She also saw Lincoln visiting Scofield: Michael looked dirty and tired, and he had a few bruises. It was incredible that a couple months ago, their positions were inverted.

“Why are you doing this?”

That was the question running through her head. Pam would assume that Alexander couldn’t make it to the party, would curse at him and move on. The office would soon have another boss, and they would recall when Mahone was in charge as a dark spot on their history. The search for the Fox River’s Eight was long forgotten. But she couldn’t. For her, there was a life before Alexander Mahone, and one after him. And she couldn’t go back to the other one. There was no fucking way.

As corny as it sounds, maybe she needed closure. Seeing him once last time, tell him goodbye… Yes, she was extremely hurt, but even with that… she just couldn’t throw in the trash six years of her life. As sad as it sounds, the best six years of her life. And she also made a promise to Cameron. That kid wasn’t responsible for his father’s stupid decisions. He deserved to be happy, and just thinking about the happy smile on his face once he would see his father enter through the door, made her heart ache.

Shortly after Burrows left and Scofield went back in, he came out. He was a mess, with bags under his eyes and unbelievably dirty clothes. The effects of withdrawal were starting to show. He was shaking, and he couldn’t stand still. He didn’t look up until he was close to the cage.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He immediately felt his gaze light up and a smile settle on his face. He couldn’t believe it. She was here. Even if she was looking at him like that, a mixture of concert, curiosity, and yes, hate. In that moment, he felt like he could climb up the metal cage and go to her, but the guards pointing at him with precision rifles made him take a step back.

‘Brie… you are here… I can’t believe it.’ Silence, she just kept staring at him. ‘This place is horrible, there is no food, no clean water… there is a guy named Lechero, and he rules the prison and he… makes people fight to death… I… I cannot be in here, Brie.’

Silence again. She continued staring at him. She had that small wrinkle between her eyebrows.

‘Scofield is in here, and T-Bag, and Bellick. I… I tried to talk to Michael… make an alliance… but he ditched me. Of course…’

Silence.

‘Brie… I need you to talk to me…why are you not talking?... Brie… please.’

‘Alexander, I…’

‘I know I was an asshole, and you don’t really have a reason to be here, but… I… I’m glad you are here because… because I wanted to say sorry, and if I die here, I’d never forgive myself for not telling you that I… I…’

‘Cameron called me, said you were invited to his birthday party in a month.’

‘What?’

‘So, one way or another, you are getting out in a month. For that, I need you to focus, try to be calm. I’ll figure something out, okay?’

‘Brie… I…’

‘Shut up, I’m thinking…’ Her eyes started scanning the building and its surroundings. Alexander just stood there admiring her.

‘It’s impossible to get out of here, Brie.’

‘We have done so many impossible things together. Now, come closer.’

Through a small gap, she quickly passed him a napkin containing seeds and pieces of fruit. It was also wet enough to squeeze, so Alexander devoured the contents in seconds and drank the water he could get from the napkin.

‘I need you to stay alive. Hang this on your cell’s window, so I can know where are you.’

‘I don’t have a cell yet…’

‘Well, get one. I also need you to tell me everything you can of what happens inside, how many cells, if there are inmates guarding each other, all of that. Also keep an eye on Scofield. Given his background I’m sure he’ll try to escape.’

‘Why are you doing this? I left you there alone, you should be happy I’m in here.’

‘Cameron’s birthday party. You need to be there. Consider this how I will finally pay everything that you did for me. After that, I’m gone. Forever.’

‘I’ve never deserved you, Brie. You are the best thing that-‘

‘Enough with that. Stay alive, and give me information, okay? Take care, Alexander.’

‘I miss you, Brie. I miss you so much.’

Silence again.

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She wanted to shout to the guards to shot her right on the spot. She just needed to tell him goodbye. Where on earth did the idea of getting him out come from? She had no plan, no money, no way of knowing. But the moment she saw him there, so vulnerable, a ghost of the man of a few weeks ago, something changed. A part of her saw the man she met all those years ago. That and Cameron made her forget momentarily all the hate and pain she had been feeling.

The first step was to get a place to live and hopefully a job, so she could save some money for whatever she needed to do. She’d never done anything besides being Mahone’s right hand, and she also spoke very little Spanish. As she was leaving the Sona perimeter, she noted a small white fabric hanging from one of the windows. Although his silhouette was hard to distinguish, she was sure he was looking at her.

Sona was in the middle of the jungle, so there were no houses or buildings nearby, except for one small store. It was a convenience store with snacks and drinks. Some Sona guards were there earlier, probably having something to eat before their shifts. A small sign read, “We are hiring: night security/plant nursery.” Alexandria approached the man behind the counter.

‘Hello, do you speak English?’

‘Yes, what can I do for you?’

‘Your sign… are you still hiring?’

‘Yes, sort of… do you have experience with plants miss?’

‘Sort of… but I was actually asking about the night security position.’

‘Really? No one really wants to do that, especially being this close to Sona… but I’m getting old and I’ve already had… Oh no, not again.’

Three men with large guns arrived in that moment. They started screaming something in Spanish, and the man opened the cash register. They were also screaming something to Alexandria, but she didn’t understand.

‘Miss, put your hands up, I don’t want them to shot you.’

They were getting closer, and honestly, they looked really intimidating. However, she was a professional assassin who could identify when a gun was charged and when it wasn’t. With a quick move she tackled one of the assailants, using his gun to knock the other two. The one on the floor tried to push her down, but she easily kicked his head, subduing him as well. The man just looked at her with a shocked expression on his face.

‘What are you waiting? Call the police.’ Alexandria said between breaths.

‘I think you are hired. What’s your name miss?’

‘Alexandria Jones.’

‘Alphonso Gallegos. You are not from here, why are you in Panama, and also around Sona?’

‘My… my husband was arrested and threw in there. I need a place close by so I can visit him.’

‘I get you… my son Luis is in there. He’s been there for three years now. Well, you can stay in the back room, it’s small but it is enough. We have the plant nursery there. My wife used to take care of that, but after she died it’s been on me.’

‘Thanks, I actually like plants, but I don’t know a lot.’

‘I can teach you, so two birds one stone. Welcome Miss Jones.’

Chapter Text

The place was modest but had AC, a bed, a bathroom, and a perfect view of Sona from the rooftop. Alexandria spent the rest of the evening there, and with the help of Alphonso’s binoculars, she managed to trace a rough map of Sona’s exteriors and take notes of some of the guards’ schedules. She could also see how security worked at night and how the protocols changed at that time. Her conclusion? It was going to be nearly impossible.

They had better chances at night, but it was a wild guess. She needed to know what was going on inside the prison, where the possible exits could be, and who she could trust. In other words, she needed to become Michael Scofield. In any other circumstances, she knew that Alexander and she could pull it off, but it was a matter of time before the lack of drugs in his system made him lose it. So, until further notice, it was her and the lucid parts of Mahone’s brain.

A wild idea kept running around her brain: if there was anyone who could escape that prison, it was Michael. Allying with Scofield, Burrows, and Tancredi was an option she hadn’t entirely dismissed. But it was highly improbable. Alexander had killed the brother’s father and also held Sara at gunpoint. Michael had already ditched Mahone; why would he accept anything she had to offer? But deep inside of her, she knew she needed him. So, she needed to be smart and use what she had in her favor, basically saving Lincoln’s life. Luckily enough, she would encounter him at the visit cage, and she would make the offer.

She didn’t want to believe her eyes as she approached the cage. Yes, most of the time, she found Brad Bellick annoying, and she didn’t agree to have him join the con’s search, but seeing him all dirty, almost naked, and limping was not something she ever wished happened to him. He was talking with a furious Sucre, who left abruptly. Maybe it was the heat or the impression that he had that same solace expression that Mahone had, but something made her call his name before he went back inside.

‘Bellick.’

He turned around to see her. Once he realized who she was, he lowered his gaze and shyly approached the cage.

‘Hi… what are you doing here? Are you the one visiting Mahone?’

‘Yes… yes I am… what happened to you?’

‘I refused to give some dude my wallet, and they took everything from me, leaving me at the bottom of the Sona food chain. Your little friend refused to help me, do you know that?’

‘He’s not in that good shape either-‘

‘I know that he’s been asking around the junkies for anything he can find.’

‘That idiot…’

‘I mean, I get it; I’d do anything to forget I’m here. I haven’t had any food or clean water, and you can see… no clothes either. I don’t even have a cell, and I’m the idiot who cleans the latrines and the sewers.’

‘There is a sewer system under Sona?’

‘Yes. I am convinced it is alive. No one can survive in there… so maybe they’ll send me there to die.’

‘You won’t die. Why is he taking so long?’

‘Maybe he had another fight.’

‘Another?’

‘Well, no. Didn’t he tell you that he intervened in Scofield’s first fight so that the pretty boy wouldn’t get his guts out by another dude? Mahone appeared out of nowhere and snapped his neck.’

‘No, he didn’t. Hey, come here.’ She took half of the sandwich she had prepared for Alexander and passed it to him through the gap. Bellick opened his eyes widely. ‘Hurry up, eat it before the guards notice.’ Just like Alexander, he devoured it in seconds.

‘Hey hmmm… why… you didn’t have to…’

‘Shut up, Bellick.’

‘Thank you, Alexandria, thank you, thank you.’ The wrinkle reappeared between her brows as she watched him limp his way back into Sona.

‘Where are you, Alexander? Please don’t be dead, or I’ll kill you.’

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Alexander was, in fact, not dead. But he wished he was. It was all for nothing. Cursed the day (or days, let’s be honest) that he didn’t kill Michael Scofield.

It all started with a light of hope when that kid told him the story about James Whistler, an inmate who had been incarcerated because he killed Panama’s major’s son. Apparently, the major told Lechero that if any of the other Sona residents brought him Whistler’s head, he would move his influences to get that person a trial with a friendly judge. Basically, that guy was his ticket to freedom.

He also noticed that Scofield was constantly going to the door leading to the sewers. After asking around, he learned that Michael was also looking for this guy. At this point, it was obvious to Mahone that he had found him. So, he followed his instincts and entered the gruesome and wet labyrinth underneath the prison. Just like that, he encountered an Australian man hiding between the walls.

Just as he was dragging him to the surface, Michael and other inmates appeared and demanded him to let Whistler go. Scofield even told him that he would testify in his favor if he’d set free the man he was grabbing by the collar. But that only made him want to get out there faster: Michael had lied to his face many times before; why would he change his mind right now?

When he reached the surface, Lechero was already waiting for him. He was about to snap Whistler’s neck when a loud noise startled everyone on the patio. Suddenly, clean water started coming from one of the pipes, and all the inmates hurried to drink. They had been out of water for weeks now. But it hadn’t been a miracle. As it turned out, the structural engineer had managed to unclog the pipes, returning the water to Sona.

And that stupid engineer had made a deal with Lechero: water in exchange for Whistler’s life. Honoring his words, Lechero set Whistler free and erased the agreement that came with him. Alexander wanted to scream and kill Whistler, Michael, and even Lechero at that moment. He had one chance, one light at the end of the tunnel, and it went as it came. His mind started to spin, and he felt his heart beating wildly on his chest. T-Bag, of all people, was the one who told him to pay attention to the message repeating constantly through the speakers.

“Last chance, Mahone, visit!”

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She had to give another ten dollars to the guard to let her stay another 30 minutes. The sun was killing her, and she ended up sitting on the floor waiting for him. She heard an explosion and thought the worst. But then, he appeared. He looked worse than before, and the smell emanating from him was awful. His jeans were wet up to the knee, and he was covered in sweat.

‘What happened to you?’

‘Scofield.’

‘Did you fight him?’

‘No, but I wish I did. Lechero had a reward for bringing him a guy named Whistler; he said that whoever found him would receive a trial to get out of here. And Scofield had to ruin it. He blew my chance.’

‘I’m standing here; you still have a chance.’

‘I know, Brie, I’m sorry… I just… I can’t be here any longer.’

‘I’m moving as fast as I can, which reminds me, don’t you dare use any of the drugs that they sell inside.’

‘How do you…?’

‘Bellick. Oh, that reminds me, you will let him sleep in your cell.’

‘What? No!’

‘The man is in his underwear, Alexander. At least he could have a roof each night.’

‘Oh, so now you are defending your dear Brad, right? I should’ve seen it coming… are you breaking him as well? Are you suddenly a team now?’

‘What the hell are you t-‘

‘Mr. Mahone!’ They both turned to see a man in a suit approaching. ‘Raúl Darinda, I’m the public defender assigned to your case.’

‘That’s great, that’s great… She’s Alexandria Jones, my… my FBI partner…’

‘Pleasure to meet you. Look, I have some great news, we got you a trial date.’ Alexandria and Mahone exchanged glances, a tiny sparkle in both faces.

‘Really? Thank God, thank God. When?’

‘June 13th.’

‘Wait.’ Alexandria’s wrinkle quickly appeared on her forehead. ‘That was last week, did he miss it?’

‘June 13th of next year. That’s great news because it usually takes two and a half years for a non-citizen to get before a judge.’

Mahone began to say more things to the lawyer, his anger escalating exponentially. But Alexandria stopped listening. The trial was a year from now. There was no way he was going to make it that far. There was also no way she could wait that long. She took the papers she had been hiding underneath her shirt and stared at them long and hard. She needed to act faster; time was running out for both of them. She turned to see the man behind the cage. He was not okay, and he would get worse each day until his body could not handle it any longer, and he’d suffer a painful and lonely death.

There was a voice inside her head that she was trying to ignore. The voice was telling her to drop it all and run away. Abandon him to his luck just like he did with her. She couldn’t help it. The hate she felt every time she looked at him could only be equated to the pain she was feeling. But the love she still had for him, that tiny emotion, was fighting with all its might against that voice. Those remains were the only things that stopped her from doing that. She knew she would hate herself all her life if Alexander ended up dying in there.

She hated the sound of bullets. From one moment to another, Alexander lost his patience with the lawyer and was trying to grab him through the fence. Immediately, the guards started shooting at his feet. She pushed the lawyer to the side and placed herself before Alexander. The fire ceased, and she received some weird looks from the people around. In their defense, they’d probably never seen a human shield before.

‘Wow, you managed to blow two chances today.’

‘He didn’t know anything! he was just going to make me stay longer.’

‘You know? Maybe people wouldn’t turn against you if you treated them more kindly. Think, Wheeler.’

‘I don’t need moral lessons from you, Brie. I NEED YOU TO GET ME OUT OF HERE!’ He immediately noticed that he was screaming at her again. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.’ His eyes were open wide, worry all over his factions.

She just stood there, staring at him, not a trace of emotion on her face. ‘I won’t be able to come tomorrow and the day after. Mr. Gallegos needs me to drive him to the other side of the city for some merchandise.’

‘Who’s Mr. Gallegos?’

‘The man that gave me my job.’

‘You have a job?’

‘I need money to get you out of here. Anyway, I brought this for you, but you are not going to fucking eat it. You are going to give it to Bellick. And you know I’ll know if you lie to me.’ She threw him the other half of the sandwich through the gap. ‘Because at least he makes me feel that I’m doing something good for someone and not like a fucking robot at his mercy.’

‘Brie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scream to you… please…’

‘See you in two days. Don’t die, Alexander.’

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He might be far away, but he could distinguish that kind of paper anywhere. Sona’s blueprints were rolled up under Alexandria Jones' arm. He saw her briefly entering the main office, but he didn’t think much after he saw her again later. He needed to tell Linc to steal them from her; he needed that information to understand how he could escape. And he didn’t have much time: a woman from the Company had kidnapped L.J. and Sara and threatened to kill them if Michael didn’t break out with Whistler on his side. That’s why he helped him. His gut told him there was more to the story, but right now, the lives of his girlfriend and nephew were at risk. Oh, and on top of that, he only had until the end of the month.

He continued staring at her, taking mental notes of where she was heading to inform his brother the following day. Little did he know that she had noticed him and purposely changed her route. He was about to return to his cell when Mahone himself appeared out of nowhere. The man was clearly pissed, and he started questioning his true intentions regarding Whistler, accurately deducing that the Company was behind all of this and that he had a plan to escape with the Australian.

‘Oh, so you don’t mind if I kill him?’

‘The question is, would the company mind? What would they do to you?’

‘By the time they realize, I’ll be far away. Jones is far smarter than Burrows, you see? She’s gonna get me out of here soon, and you and your brother will face the consequences.’

‘Well, Alex, I wouldn’t be so sure. Did you know that she helped my brother escape from the authorities? She also freed him that time in the warehouse, remember?’

‘That’s not true.’

‘You abandoned to her luck. If I were her, I’d wait until the precise moment to stab you in the back just like you did. The perfect revenge.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Two days later, she was standing in the same spot. That little trip helped her to clear her mind and think things better. Her mind was a mess, a whirlwind of emotions going back and forth from her heart to her brain. It didn’t help that she had to tell Mr. Gallegos the story of how she met her “husband” and how she “loved him very much.” All fake… of course.

She wondered if she would have to wait hours again for him to appear. Last time she’d been proactive, and managed to steal the blueprints when she went to the main office to “ask some questions.” But right now, she didn’t have the energy to investigate more. She’d spent the past two nights analyzing Sona’s surroundings and traced an escape route through the jungle up to the beach. She also studied the blueprints and took notes about the fence’s material and how she could cut it. She basically had an escape plan, and the only thing she needed to figure out was how to get Alexander out of the main building and all the way to the fences without being seen. The rest would be easy.

He came out on time. He slowly approached the cage, not making eye contact at any time.

‘I thought you wouldn’t come back.’

‘I said two days, Alexander.’

‘Yeah, I know… I just… I just thought you were done with me after how I treated you. I’m so sorry, Brie, please, I beg you to forgive me.’ He shyly raised his eyes.

‘Apology accepted, I guess.’

‘Can I ask you a question?’

‘Yes?’

‘Did you really help Burrows escape?’ He didn’t sound angry or pissed, more like tired and maybe sad.

‘I did.’

‘Scofield told me, and I didn’t want to believe him, but now…’

‘Honestly, I don’t know why I did it.’

‘You said that I saw you as a robot at my mercy, but the truth is that you have the biggest heart out of the two of us. You are amazing, Brie, and a wonderful person. You helped Burrows because it was the right thing to do. And now you are here, being my only hope. A hope I don’t deserve.’

‘Stop that, Alexander.’

‘No! You need to understand that I have always admired you, Brie. Since day one. Not only because of what you were able to do but also because of who you are. You have been there always, you… you listen to me, you comfort me, you take care of me, you… you are everything, Brie. And I don’t know how, but I’ll give it back to you the moment I get out of here.’

‘Don’t make promises you won’t keep.’ Now, she was the one not looking at him.

‘Try me, you’ll see. Two days was a long time without you; I cannot do it without you, Brie.’

‘Then you’ll need help the rest of your life. I told you, as soon as you are reunited with Cameron and… Pam… I’m out of your life. Forever.’

They stared at each other. She also didn’t sound angry or pissed, more like tired and maybe sad. He had found a new way to lie. And it hurt because she knew that it wasn’t true. There was no way that he was feeling those things. Two days ago, she decided to annihilate the remains of love in her heart; that way, it would be easier to look at him.

‘I… I have some ideas, but we need to refine them. Everything is ready from the fence to the beach, but I need your help to figure out from your cell to the fence.’

‘Brie…’

‘We cannot use the sewers; they are dangerous, and the blueprints don’t say where they lead.’

‘Brie…’

‘And it has to be during the night; there are more guards, but I have their schedules, and we may have a chance if we find the precise moment.’

‘Brie…’

‘What?’

‘I love you.’

Chapter Text

‘Brie… I love you.’

There are so many ways to say it. There are so many instances in which that powerful phrase is the tip of an iceberg of emotions. After the wedding vows, at the airport, after a baby’s first cry, before surgery, at graduation, before you say goodbye… It’s stupid how much responsibility we place on those three words.

Some say that drunk people and children always tell the truth. Can the same be applied to drug addicts in withdrawal? Alexander felt his heart beating fast as soon as those words left his mouth. He’d never felt more alive. Alexandria felt her heart beating fast as soon as those words left his mouth. She wanted to die right on the spot. It was impressive that she lived to hear those words a few months ago, but now, they meant nothing. In contrast, the thrilling sensation of a newly found emotion was the only thing giving him the strength to survive.

It was like some evil deity had cursed them, trapping them on the opposite side of an hourglass—each grain representing their feelings for each other… an endless ocean of memories. Alexandria was on top, watching her love fade away as time passed; she was almost empty by that point. Meanwhile, Alexander was at the bottom, embracing his newly found emotions as they came, drowning himself in an ocean of love he could not handle. Opposite sides, opposite emotions. The only thing they were both aware of was that they were running out of time.

‘Brie?’

‘I…’

The small package containing the sandwich in her hand fell to the floor with a thud. Alexander kept his eyes fixed on her, and a couple of tears built up as he watched her run away from him.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Mr. Gallegos trusted her enough to go and get the merchandise alone in other towns. She’d played the hard-working and desperate wife well. She was driving around Saint Rita, a lovely little town with not much to see. She carried the boxes, filling the van’s truck. She knew well that she was in the middle of a “rescue mission” and a race against time. Still, she deeply enjoyed moments like this one when she was doing mundane activities in a faraway place where nobody knew who she was and she didn’t know anybody. Except for freaking Lincoln Burrows, who didn’t know how to cross the street and was almost run over by her.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ She turned off the vehicle and approached him.

‘Shhh, I’m thinking.’

‘Thinking almost killed you; I see why you don’t do that often.’

The sound of breaking glasses startled them. Someone had broken a window from a house nearby. Looking closely at the thing that broke the glass, she was even more confused. It was a woman’s shoe.

‘Give me your gun.’

‘What? No!’

‘The Company kidnaped Sara and L.J., and they are in there. Give me your gun!’

She saw some movement inside the house and then saw someone with red hair. Sara was a redhead. She’d always thought that it was a beautiful color in her. She quickly ran to the building, followed by Lincoln. They were met by a man at the entrance, but Alexandria quickly tackled him down. Burrows passed them and kicked the door open. The bad thing about working exclusively with Alexander for all those years was that she was not used to other people’s fighting styles. That’s why she didn’t react on time when she saw those men taking Sara Tancredi and L.J. Burrows through the back door.

She grabbed her gun and began firing at the man who had L.J. The bullet hit his arm, and he let out a big scream, but he didn’t let the kid go. She began running toward the man, but she felt someone grabbing her ankles and pushing her to the floor. How many people were inside that house? The man tried to go for her neck, but she kicked him right in the stomach, bringing him to the floor with her, where she continued punching him until he was left unconscious.

‘Come on!’

Lincoln, with a trace of blood running through his cheek, began running to the backdoor. She followed him, but it was useless. Sara and L.J. were thrown into a van, which sped off into the jungle. Brie started shooting at the tires and the back but quickly noticed it was heavily reinforced. They were gone.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘At least I know they are alive now… But the question is, for how long? Can… can you drive me back to Sona? I need to talk with Michael.’

‘Yeah… sure. Let’s also get you cleaned. You are bleeding.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The drive was silent, minus the part where she cleaned his wound, and he hissed with every touch. She didn’t really care to be careful. Once again, she wondered why she was helping Burrows of all people. The good part is that he led her to Scofield, the brother she wanted to talk with.

‘What is she doing here?’ Michael was not taking his eyes of Alexandria.

‘I found Sara and L.J… but they took them elsewhere. She was there when it happened and drove me here.’

‘I need to speak with you.’ Alexandria was staring right back.

‘I don’t make deals with assassins.’

‘Even if that assassin has an escape plan for all the bases you can’t possibly cover?’

Michael kept staring in silence; they had reassumed their staring competition. After some minutes, he finally spoke again. ‘What happens after we cross the fence?’

‘The only routes available are if you cross from the east and south. West and north, you’ll find a dead end. The others lead to the jungle. I don’t know how agile you are, but it is a path with many branches and tight places. They could only follow you by foot.’

‘And then?’

‘You’ll end up in a virgin beach. Get rid of shoes. Swim. Become invisible.’

‘No one is able to swim that much or be underwater.’

‘Too bad for you, but with a portable oxygen tank, Alexander and I were able to remain hours underwater. They sell them at most stores.’

‘Getaway vehicles?’

‘I assume you two know how to drive a boat. We’ll use that and then I’ll drive you to a warehouse to make the exchange.’

‘Well thanks for the plan, we’ll take it from here.’

‘Not so fast. I thought you were smarter and noticed that you would need someone strategically positioned before, during, and after the escape. Someone with Sona’s blueprints, someone with all the guard’s schedules, someone with a car, and that knows someone with a boat.’

‘What do you want?’

‘You know what I want. I’ll work with you two as long as you include Alexander in the escape.’

‘The man is out of his mind; he’ll only waste our time.’

‘Try him. You know what he’s capable of doing… come on, Michael, what was your plan? Run around some place you don’t know, hoping nobody catches you? Plus, we’ll have the advantage of the darkness.’

‘Wait, you planned to do all of that at night?’

‘Yes, I know there are more guards, but I have some ideas that-‘

‘It’s impossible.’

‘So you wanted to do it during the day?’

‘There are only two guards, and I’m working on taking them down. We’ll do it tomorrow, prepare all that stuff by then.’

‘Just like that? I’m not playing games, Michael.’

‘Neither am I. You said it yourself. I need what you have, and you need my help. I’ll call it even.’

‘I’ll keep in contact then; everything will be ready for tomorrow.’

‘Good, now let me talk with my brother.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Days were starting to become blurry and confusing. The floor beneath him constantly spun around, and that annoying echo accompanied him wherever he went. He also felt observed, although in a prison, this was always possible; during the days, he wandered around, gaining curious looks from the other inmates. He didn’t know, but there was a bet among some of them, wondering when he would lose it completely.

When it was time to return to his cell, chances were that he had already walked into another five different cells before arriving at the right one. He was mostly alone: Bellick would only sleep there at night and wasn’t allowed to come in another time. None of the other inmates wanted to share with him, and despite the limited space in Sona, they preferred to leave him alone. It was better like that, because that way, he could spend more time with her. Part of his daily routine of walking around Sona was driven by the necessity of knowing that none of the other convicts would sneak their noses and that he could enjoy his favorite part of the day:

Once he was done walking, he would find her there, sitting on his bed, waiting for him. A big smile would appear on his face as he approached her, and then they would lay together, very close to each other. He would kiss her sweetly and tell her about his day. And she would play with his hair, with that beautiful smile of hers, laughing at his jokes. Sometimes they would make love, but it wasn’t all the time; he preferred to enjoy her company, tell her that he loved her on every occasion he had… He didn’t remember when he gave the promised sandwich to Bellick, but he did remember what he told him.

‘I mean, you are lucky. If I had a woman like that, taking care of me like she does, or loving me the way she does… I wouldn’t let her go, you know?’

He didn’t think the word love was enough to describe his feelings. He was intoxicated by her: her eyes, her hair, her lips, her curves… everything made sense now, he loved her. When did it start? It didn’t matter. Actually, with Brie in his arms, nothing else mattered. He wanted to be in that bed forever, just admiring her. But he knew he had to let her go occasionally; she hated the heat, after all. In those moments, he would kiss her hand as she let him know that she would be right back. And then, that beautiful sound of “Mahone, visit!” would make him run to the visitation cage and find her once again as she promised. However, he kept wondering why she wasn’t smiling anymore when she was outside. It probably was the sun.

What he didn’t like was when she wasn’t the one waiting for him in his cell. He knew that she wouldn’t be there when he would find drops of blood and grain residues at the entrance. He hated whenever Patoshik visited him because, unlike Brie, he would follow him and not leave him alone for hours. And he was everywhere. Right now, both of them were there: Brie was sitting on the bed while Patoshik was pacing around the cell. He moved fast, so fast that he made Alexander dizzy. Sometimes, he would be far away outside the building, and other times, he’d get too close that he could hear him.

‘Alex.’

He turned around immediately. Patoshik was now outside his cell, next to Scofield. He instinctively placed himself before Brie so that Michael couldn’t see her. He didn’t mind much about the dead man.

‘You just get here?’

‘Yes… Listen, I’ve been thinking about our little talk and… you’re in.’

He felt Brie standing and hugging him from behind. He held her hands. ‘I’m in. Okay. Just like that?’

‘I really don’t have a choice, do I? Linc and I made a deal with Alexandria. We are all working together here.’

‘What’s the plan?’

‘We are working on it. Meanwhile, I could use your help.’

‘What do you need?’

‘A black felt-tipped pen. Some documents need altering. I’ll explain it to you later. Right now, I need that pen, okay?’

He didn’t like how Scofield looked at him, like he was crazy or something. He turned to look at Brie, who was now standing right next to Scofield. She smiled at him and gently nodded. He looked around for Patoshik, but he was gone.

‘I’ll tell you what else I need. I need you to get your act together. Bring yourself under control, because you’re attracting attention. And that we don’t need.’

‘I’m under control.’

‘Of course you are.’

A black felt-tipped pen. It wasn’t that hard. He turned to see Brie and to ask her if she could go with him, but she was gone already. It didn’t take that long. He found a black marker in a pile of trash, which wasn’t exactly a pen, but maybe it would help.

Michael quickly told him no and to keep looking. He was in the middle of the patio, under the bright sun, when the floor started moving again. Patoshik stood next to him and whispered in his ear, “Do not trust him, he’s leaving you, he’ll be gone and you’ll be stuck in this maze forever. You know what you need to do…” He wanted to punch him, but he was fast. He was behind a column, and then on top of the stairs, he would appear behind him and then on the other side of the patio. Right where he saw the other man.

He had another guest just once. It happened during the two days after he arrived, before Brie began to visit him. It was extremely dark, but he was able to distinguish him perfectly. He could recognize that man anywhere. On the first night, he just stood there at the opposite corner of the patio. Despite being 6 feet tall, Mahone felt extremely small, and he felt getting smaller whenever he would look at him. He felt his eyes piercing through his soul. The heavy rain was not able to clean the soil residuals on his body. On the second night, the man began walking towards Mahone. Alexander wanted to run away, but his feet were stuck in the ground. With each step, seven bullet holes began appearing one by one on his body and his flesh started dissolving, until only his bones were left. Mahone observed the skeleton in pure terror, but he wasn’t able to scream. After that, he never saw Oscar Shales again.

“Mahone, visit!”

She was standing there, a vision in blue. Literally. She was wearing a short-sleeved baby blue blouse. He’d never seen her with anything else besides her black clothing. The color complemented her eyes and made them stand even more. She looked gorgeous… if he wasn’t running to her encounter, it was only because of the permanent frown that adorned her face that warned him not to try anything like the other day.

‘I talked with Burrows and Scofield. He wants to escape on plain daylight, for God’s sake.’

‘Your plan is better.’

‘I know that, but he thinks escaping during the night will be more difficult if there are three of you… which is somewhat correct… Anyway, we are going to try dealing with the day guards first. Let’s see how that goes.’

She continued talking about electrifying the fence and using a chemical to make a hole in it, about convincing the burrier that she needed a bigger gun, but he was distracted for obvious reasons.

‘Do you have any questions, Alexander?’

‘Do you have a black-felt tipped pen?’

‘I don’t have any pills left, Alexander.’

‘No, I just need a pen. Michael… he needs one.’

‘He didn’t mention anything about a pen, but here you go.’

She took the pen from her pocket and tossed it through the cage. He bent down to grab it when he noticed a small dandelion growing on the ground. He smiled and picked up both objects.

‘Do you have food? Water?’

‘Yes… the truck came yesterday, and I received my portion; I’m okay, Brie.’

‘Good. I need you on top of your game, Alexander.’

‘Come closer.’

Through the same gap, he placed the dandelion on her hand. He kissed his fingers and placed them on Brie’s lips. ‘You look so pretty. Happy Birthday.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Panama’s beers were good, except they would easily become warm. So, you needed to empty the bottle quickly to savor the flavors better. The obvious consequence was that you’d get drunk faster. Fortunately for her, she had great resistance; she just wanted to feel that bitter sensation down her throat—a little pain to remind her that she was still alive.

‘It didn’t work.’ Lincoln sat beside her and asked Mr. Gallegos to have whatever Alexandria was having.

‘Yeah, I noticed that.’ They were talking about Michael’s great idea to spy on the guards using some binoculars to notice when they could have a blind spot. The good part was that they found the exact time of the day when the sun would blind them. The bad part was that they were discovered and almost executed.

‘Hey, we are including Mahone on the plan, that is a fact… but we need the other part of the map… and your information about the guards.’

‘Your brother is not going to listen to anything I say.’

‘Listen, when Michael has something in mind… he needs to get it done exactly as he imagined it. He rarely accepts collaboration.’

‘Yeah, I’m familiar with the “my ideas, your resources” kind of working.’

‘Mahone was the brains and you the muscle?’

‘I’m not talking about Alexander.’

Whenever Lincoln had to interact with her, he’d get increasingly frustrated because she seemed like an open book, but in reality, she’d left no clues regarding who she was. A total mystery. And Lincoln didn’t like mysteries.

‘What’s with the flower?’

Alexandria was playing with the dandelion, absorbed in her thoughts. Burrows almost regretted asking the question because he thought she was ignoring him. Once again, he was wrong about her.

‘He gave me this for my birthday.’

‘Today’s your birthday?’

‘It was three months ago. He needs to get out of there; he needs help.’ Lincoln might have had all the experience in the world when it came to street fighting, but even he underestimated how unpredictable Alexandria could be. With a quick movement, she pulled a machete out of nowhere, aiming it straight for his jugular. ‘So let me be clear: if at any point you decide to get rid of Alexander, or on the day of the escape I don’t see Alexander there with Scofield and Whistler on the other side of the fence, the Company will be the least of your problems.’

She slightly pressed the machete with each word. A bigger speech would probably cause Lincoln to start bleeding. But he didn’t break eye contact with her. ‘See, that’s the thing I don’t get about you; you want to help Mahone, but he left you all alone that day, and also you are helping us, but you also wanted us dead… Why?’

‘Believe me, Burrows, I want to know that answer as well.’

Chapter Text

In the original plan to capture the Fox River’s Eight, the first target was Theodore Bagwell. Jones and Mahone wanted to capture that poor excuse of a human being and had an established idea of what they would do. As we all know, the Company decided that Burrows and Scofield were more important, and that plan faded away slowly. But not the feelings against him. Upon his arrival in Sona, Alexander wanted to use the chicken foot to fight T-Bag to death finally: for him, for Brie, for Susan Hollander and her family (who T-Bag kidnapped as soon as he got out of Fox River), and for all of his victims. He couldn’t catch him before, but he had a chance inside.

“Had” as in a past tense. He never thought withdrawal would come that soon. In the last weeks before coming to Panama, he had been taking up to five pills a day; the stress of the search was eating him alive. And suddenly, not being able to access his drugs hit him like a thousand bricks. There was this guy, Nieves, who worked for Lechero. He was in charge of distributing and selling drugs inside the prison. He had often approached Alexander to offer his “merchandise,” but Alexander refused. In part, it was because he didn’t have any money, and he wasn’t going to resort to other “activities” to obtain the cash, if you know what that means.

The other reason was Brie’s threats: she explicitly told him not to consume anything inside. And he had obeyed because he didn’t want to upset her anymore. He was desperate to see her smile again, not only inside his cell but also when she was outside. Patoshik had been annoying him recently with that, telling him that she was going to betray him as well and that she was going to escape with Scofield and Burrows—a taste of his own medicine. The worst part was that he was starting to believe that. Lately, whenever she visited him, she only talked about Michael, Lincoln, and the plan. She’d ignore his comments and attempts of small talk, and she’d only tell him to stay alive and alert. He wondered what was going to happen after the escape. What was the point if Brie didn’t want to be by his side anymore? What if she decided to go with the brothers? What if she had fallen in love with Burrows, and that’s why she helped him? What if-

‘Agent Mahone. Good news. Due to the untimely demise of Señor Juan Nieves, I have now been promoted manager-in-charge of retail distribution and customer liaison.’

Of course, Nieves was dead. He was the weakest of all Lechero’s gang, and T-Bag wanted to climb the ladder of privilege as quickly as possible. He was the easiest option.

‘Get away from me.’

‘All due time. Now, I’m not your mama, and I ain’t one to wipe others’ noses, but let’s just say you’ve looked better.’

‘I want nothing from you.’

‘But sure seems you need something. On the arm. No strings attached.’

T-Bag slowly walked away when Alexander realized what he was talking about. Right next to where he was sitting, T-Bag had left a syringe, a cord, and some white substance. Tears started accumulating again, and he started shaking. He didn’t have to turn around to know Patoshik was behind him.

“You’ve lost everything, Alex; what is a little more?”

He was right: his relationship with Pam was dead and buried, he’d lost his reputation and his job, and as things were going, he wasn’t going to make it to his son’s birthday party. The only thing he had left was Brie, but even she would not be there forever. His newly found love for her had come way too late, and she probably was starting to move on. She was only helping him out of pity.

Tears started to fall down his cheeks. He reached for the syringe when he felt another pair of eyes watching him. Brie was kneeling beside him; her green eyes were also full of tears, like pleading him not to do it. But Patoshik was right; he’d already lost her, so maybe it was time to let her go. It was selfish wanting to be with her after everything he’d done. She needed to be away from him because he had only caused damage to those he loved. And he loved her very, very much.

The white substance started to have an effect a few moments later. He noticed when Brie started fading away, keeping that sad look on her face (unfortunately for him, Patoshik didn’t go away). His heart started beating faster and faster, and he felt a strange and invigorating sensation in his body. He began to walk, but now the world was not spinning; it was shaking, and it was impossible to move forward. He fell to his knees and started crawling, more disoriented than before. He finally collapsed inside Michael’s old cell, and right before his eyes, there was an object that placed pure hate in his heart: a black felt-tipped pen.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Michael was able to change cells because he had repaired Sona’s electricity; that was the deal with Lechero. It was an easy plan, mainly because he caused the blackout in the first place. He needed to study how the generators worked and how deadly the electric fence surrounding Sona was. This also helped him gain Lechero’s trust. He was making his change when he felt a presence behind him.

‘You left this in your old cell.’

‘Thanks, Alex.’

‘You’re welcome. It’s funny that you could forget something as important as this is.’

‘Well, I’m glad you found it for me.’

It is impressive the connection that two people seem to have. Michael and Lincoln, Brie and Alexander. Those two pairs had a special bond that could cause many parallelisms. It was as if one had an experience, and the other had to live it as well. Both brothers would never imagine that simultaneously, they were both being threatened by the other half of the other duo. Coincidentally, with a sharp object as well. Alexander stuck his knife very close to Michael's left ear, and with his body, he was pinning him against the wall.

‘You and your brother are only breathing by Jones and mine’s grace, Michael. Now you remember the next time that you’re going to send me on a goose chase, okay?’

‘I didn’t…’

‘No, no you did. And you think you can manipulate me, just like you did Sucre and Tweener, and Patoshik. I’m not your errand boy. I’m going to go with you when you escape. And if you think, in any way that you’ll leave me… I will put this piece of metal right in that very small space right between your eyes. And Alexandria will do the same with Burrows.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

‘For the love of God, Burrows! Let me drive, or I’ll put a bullet right in that empty head of yours!’

To say that Lincoln and Alexandria were not a good team would be an understatement. They were both impulsive and did not want to listen to the other’s opinion. But they were forced to work together to prepare everything for the escape. Also, Sofia, Whistler’s “girlfriend,” was riding along with them for some reason, and Alexandria was on her limit, trying not to throw up whenever those two started to flirt “accidentally.” On top of that, Lincoln insisted on driving everywhere, so it obviously took longer than planned.

They bought the portable oxygen tanks and buried some stuff in the sand. They also arranged the boat and the getaway car and traced the route from Sona to the beach. It was just a matter of Michael finding a way out. According to the plan, the following day in the afternoon, Michael, Whistler, Sofia, Lincoln, Alexander, and Jones would all be on that boat. The following day, Alexandria and Lincoln went early in the morning to Sona for updates on the escape.

“Scofield, visit!”

‘To make it across the yard, we’re gonna have to disable two of the tower guards. I’ve taken care of one. With the other one, we’ll need your help.’ Michael’s tone was unusually altered. He knew that it was too rushed.

‘You’re dropping this on us today?’ Alexandria was not happy.

‘We found that he takes his lunch break between 1:00 and 2:00… he gets a cup of coffee. You need to find out where and put something in that cup. Make sure he’s unconscious during the escape.’ Michael tossed Alexander’s cup through the gap. Alexandria immediately recognized the cup.

‘I work where they sell those… guard with the mustache?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I’ve seen him there. It’ll be easy.’

‘Great. 3:13, he needs to be out. 3:25, we’ll be on the beach.’

‘In broad daylight?’

‘The Company still thinks we are going to do this at 9:00 PM, right?’

Michael Scofield was a crazy man. He was messing with the wrong kind of people. Even more, considering that his nephew and girlfriend were being kidnapped by someone named Susan, and in Lincoln’s words, “she was deadly like Alexandria, but a little crazier and intimidating.” Alexandria believed that he was not aware of what the Company could do: she didn’t know half of it herself, but just what they did to Cameron was more than enough. The brothers started arguing about some pictures proving that L.J. and Sara were okay and how Michael would not do his part of the plan if he didn’t receive new photos of both by 2:30 PM. Jones noticed how Burrows got all tense by those words.

‘You okay?’

‘Why?’

‘Scofield’s threats kinda messed you up. I know things have not been great between us, but everything will be okay. I’ll put something in the guy’s coffee, and he’ll sleep like a baby. Sucre arranged the fence’s stuff— great idea to pass him off as the gravedigger, by the way. We’ll be at our places, they’ll get out, you’ll do your exchange… everything will be fine.’

‘Sara is dead’

‘What?!’

‘After I tried to rescue them… the Company sent me a warning… Sara’s head inside a box. She’s dead… and Michael will never forgive me… he’s going to ditch the plan, and they’ll do the same to my son.’

‘I’m… sorry about Sara… but you need to tell him. Sooner or later, he will find out.’

‘He’ll find out today before the escape if they don’t bring him those pictures…’

‘Then they’ll need to do something about it. They’re probably more interested in getting Whistler out, so they’ll-‘ Alexandria stopped talking all of a sudden.

‘They’ll what?’

‘Hide me.’

‘What?’

‘Hide me!’

Burrows placed himself before Alexandria with a confused look on his face. ‘What got into you?’

‘What the hell is Lang doing here?’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Besides Brie, obviously, Lang was one of the few people he liked to work with. She was eager to learn from him, and she’d grown as an agent. However, she was highly loyal to the FBI, not to Mahone. Sullins sent her all the way to Panama to talk him into confessing in front of a special jury about the government’s conspiracy against Lincoln Burrows. If he cooperates, he would only get eight years in a middle-security prison. But eight years was eight too long. He knew he would be facing a life sentence without that kind of deal, but he couldn’t go there for that long. He just couldn’t.

After he returned from the visitation cage, he wished he’d stayed there a little longer. There was a guy named Tyge who arrived a few days ago. He seemed to have recognized Whistler from somewhere, a conference or something related in Nice a few years back. He was constantly looking at the Australian, and Alexander, in his paranoia, was scared that he might have discovered the plan and would do something about it. He and Michael suspected that Whistler was more than a fisherman, as he claimed to be; not for nothing, the Company was so interested in getting him out.

Well, Tyge was now dead. His body was found on the patio, and Lechero was furious that someone had disobeyed his system, killing someone in the shadows and not in a fight. Lechero’s men were looking around and asking for information; whoever was guilty of that would be executed. Sammy, one of his most loyal admirers, entered Michael’s cell with other guys, grabbed Whistler by the collar, and dragged him to Lechero’s cell. Michael and Alexander watched in shock: they had only about an hour to have everything ready for their escape, and the most vital part of the plan was gone. Not that Alexander cared that much.

‘Maybe we should start worrying about who the real killer is.’

‘Michael, there are about one hundred people that might be guilty in here, maybe we should move on with the plan.’

‘Except a single stab wound to the base of the neck looks pretty professional, Alex!’

‘I was in visitation, and what makes you so sure that Whistler didn’t do it? He had a run-in with the guy!’

‘No, he’s got too much to lose.’

‘Whistler’s gone, and if not now, he probably will be soon. So it’s you and me.’

‘There’s no you and me! I’m not leaving here without him.’

‘In an hour, I’m going out that window and through that fence.’

‘Oh yeah? Where are you going to go, Alex?’

‘Anywhere but here.’

‘There’s only one road out, and the jungle’s patrolled by police 24/7, so again, where are you going to go, Alex?!’

‘Brie will take care of me!’

‘Who’s Brie, Alex?’

‘I mean Alexandria. Alexandria will take care of me. It’s her plan, after all, remember? That was the deal. 3:13, I’m gone.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Susan, the woman working for the Company, gave them some sedatives to put in the guard’s coffee. As Lincoln said, she was scary, but nothing Brie couldn’t handle. Sofia, however, was intelligent. She managed to have the guard drink the coffee after Lincoln failed on his first attempt. Now, it was just a matter of waiting.

She was waiting in the car, just outside Sona. If necessary, she would cause a distraction to win them some time. Lincoln was waiting in another vehicle close to the beach; he would guide the group through the jungle and the water. Then they’ll wait until Sucre arrives with the boat. Once in firm land, Alexandria will be there to drive them to the place where the exchange would take place. She went over the plan dozens of times in her head. Everything needed to be perfect.

She had just hung up with Lincoln when she saw the black van arrive. A few things made her nauseous; she had learned to control those feelings a long time ago, but her body couldn’t help but have a physical reaction whenever she had to face Sullins. That son of a bitch, what the hell was he doing here? She observed as he and Land entered the visitation cage, and then the voice announcing a visit for Alexander made her shiver. She hadn’t had time to talk to Alexander that day; she’d been busy planning everything with the brothers and promised to give him a heads-up a few minutes before the plan was executed. Too late: according to Sona’s rules, an inmate could only receive two visits daily, so she’d lost her chance to talk to Alexander.

She kept watching, trying to figure out what the conversation was about, but she was too far away. After a few minutes, Alexander went back inside, and she saw Sullins talking on the phone. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was a visit to tell him to rot in hell or something like that. Maybe it was an update on Pam and Cameron. Maybe… She kept watching.

Her heart started to beat fast, and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. The intense sound of the door’s alarm increased her distress by the second. She didn’t give credit to what she was seeing. Right there, it was Alexander Mahone crossing Sona’s perimeter and entering the black van with Sullins and Lang. He was gone. She froze in her seat. It wasn’t until later, that she realized that she had turned on the vehicle and followed them to wherever they were taking Alexander.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

‘I saw that Jones had been visiting you, Alex, I’m not surprised she’s here… you two are very… close. We also have orders to capture her, but if you cooperate, I might cancel her search. She’ll be free of all of this. What I mean here, is that if you don’t take this offer, then I assure you, it would be the biggest mistake of your life.’

Sullins’ words kept repeating in his head. That bastard was wearing his best suit, probably bought with the bonus they gave him for information about him. He had that smirk that he hated when he repeated the offer Lang had previously told him. He even said that they could lower the sentence to four years. Cameron would be nine. And Brie would be free.

Inside, Michael was accusing him of killing Tyge and advocating for Whistler’s release. So he didn’t have to think twice. He hated the idea of going to prison, but maybe it was for the best. As he saw it, he would pay for all the pain he caused his loved ones. He had imagined the moment he crossed Sona’s doors differently: Brie would be there, waiting for him, and they would go somewhere very far away from that hell. Instead, when he turned around for the last time, he encountered Patoshik’s disapproving look. Brie was nowhere to be found. Maybe, when he accepted the deal, he had freed her. That thought made him smile as he entered the van.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was the third message she had sent him. She was desperate to contact Lincoln. The black van had stopped at a hotel. She had located the room they had taken him into, but she needed to make sure nobody was in the room to talk to Alexander and figure out what was going on. But first, she needed to talk to Lincoln.

That day, when she threatened him with the machete, she was sure that if they ditched Alexander, she would deliberately sabotage the plan. Things had changed, and Alexander was out, but the plan was still underway. She was feeling guilty, and she was concerned about that; she wasn’t supposed to care about anyone else but Alexander. The thought of Sara Tancredi’s severed head sent shivers down her spine. She didn’t deserve this, and neither did that kid L.J. And without her part of the plan, it was highly probable that all of them would end up dead if not by the Company, by the Panamanian police. And she couldn’t bear having any more bodies in her consciousness, not anymore.

‘Lincoln, please, it’s me answer! Hey, some FBI agents took Alexander somewhere, and I had to follow them. I’m so sorry. But as soon as I figure out what is happening, I’ll go directly to the docks for the exchange. Lincoln, I know you don’t trust me, but I give you my word, I’ll be there… I just… I just need to know he is okay. I’ll be there. I’ll be there.’

Chapter Text

Unlike Alexander, she has always enjoyed heights. The climbing wall was always her favorite training exercise. She would always stay a little longer on the top, just admiring the view. A fake sensation of freedom would always intoxicate her, filling her chest with what she considered happiness felt like. And because of that, she was able to climb almost anything: trees, light posts, houses, and, of course, hotels.

Fortunately for her, they had left the bathroom window open. It was also on the second floor, so it was even easier. She climbed slowly, trying to minimize any sound she could make. She could hear people talking in the room, probably Lang or Sullins; because of this, she had to resolve to sit for what seemed like hours on the edge of the small window. The edge was beginning to bury itself into her skin, but she didn't even notice; she was too busy trying to pay attention to the conversation going on the other side of the door, but, in addition to the bad acoustics of the bathroom, the people behind it were speaking almost in whispers, so she didn't get any relevant information. What's more, her stomach was in a giant knot of worry: not once in all that time did she hear Alexander's voice. The uncertainty was killing her.

‘This… the hearing needs… needs to happen right now!’

There he was. He was not dead or sedated. Alexander and Sullins (she was sure it was him now) began shouting at each other. She expected that to go for hours but it ended rather quickly, with two words from the IAB agent: Cuff him. And then, a door closing. That was her cue. She jumped into the bathroom and slowly opened the door. There he was, with his back to her and handcuffed to the bed. He hadn't even been able to change out of his dirty Sona clothes. She approached quietly until she was a few inches away from him.

‘Alexander…’

He slowly turned around, his eyes were open wide. ‘Brie? W-what are you doing here?’

‘Alexander… I’

The sound of the door opening startled both and Alexandria immediately hid under the bed. Sullins appeared at the door, carrying a tray with a hamburger, fries, and water.

‘Here you go; see? I’m not a monster. Now eat, and try to relax until tomorrow. And most importantly, take a shower, you stink.’ He left the tray on the bed and left the room quickly. It was true: working behind a desk clearly gets you out of practice of noticing the obvious.

Alexandria emerged from her hiding spot and then went to the side of the bed. With a fast movement and a pin, she uncuffed him. They sat on the bed next to each other; he shyly approached his hand, trying to touch her; it was like he wanted to make sure she was there. Unlike the other occasions, she reached and grabbed his hand.

‘You are really here…’

‘What is going on, Alexander? Why are Lang and Sullins here?’

‘They offered me a deal: 4 years in a minimum security prison if I confessed everything I know about the Company, the President Reynolds conspiracy, and all that stuff. They even said they would forget about Shales and…’

‘And?’

‘That they would drop all of your charges. You are going to be free, Brie.’

‘And you believed them? After everything Sullins has done to take you down?’

‘I just want all of this to be over. I’ll do my time, and you can go and live your life. Do that for me, Brie. I’ve already caused you so much pain.’

‘Don’t say that. I don’t trust Sullins… how can you be so sure that the deal will go through? Plus, I told you I’d get you out of here. For Cameron, remember?’

‘What about you? You don’t want all of your charges dropped? You wanted to go away from here… from me, remember?’

‘I don’t want to do it like that. I don’t know who to trust anymore; everyone is either Company, or government, or law enforcement…. I don’t trust any of them.’

‘You used to trust me…’

Silence. He started to trace circles in her hand with his thumb. She quietly stood up and reached for the tray. ‘Your burger will get cold. Eat, please, you haven’t had a proper meal in days.’

‘I survived of half sandwiches and wet napkins.’

It appeared for a fraction of a second, almost imperceptible, but he saw it: a smile. He started to eat while she played with her fingers, none of them wanting to break the silence. He offered her a fry at one point, which she shyly accepted. After he was done, she placed the tray on the floor.

‘Go get a nice shower; you need to be presentable for your hearing. As much as I don’t want to agree with Sullins, he’s right: you actually stink.’

Now, it was his turn to smile. He went into the bathroom after grabbing some clean clothes. The cold water felt like a blessing. There was a mirror in the bathroom that forced him to face his new reality: he had lost weight, he had some bruises all over his body, his uneven tan didn’t look healthy, there were bags under his eyes, and there were some scratches here and there. Watching Sullins in that suit made his stomach turn, he used to be that person, always formal, always sure of himself. He was observing what thousands of bad decisions looked like.

Outside, Alexandria was trying to locate Lincoln once again. She had no missing calls or messages; for a moment, she thought the worst. It was not until her third attempt that he finally picked up.

‘I heard your message, all of them. Did you find Mahone?’

‘Yes… he’s okay, I guess… Lincoln… what happened?’

‘They didn’t make it. I don’t know what happened, but none of them even made it to the fence.’

‘I can take a wild guess… it was cloudy today. Your brother’s plan required sunlight to blind one of the guards.’

‘The sun has been so intense on the past days… and today a cloud decides to appear. For God’s sake!’

‘How’s L.J.? Were you able to see him?’

‘Yes, Susan took him away… she won’t give up.’

‘And neither us.’

‘Mahone it’s outside, you can go.’

‘I don’t trust the people that it’s helping him. I have a bad feeling about all of this. But even if he gets out… I’ll try to help you and Scofield.’

‘Why would you do that? Again, with your contradictions.’

‘Be grateful that I want to do something good for once in my life. See you later, Lincoln.’

She hung up immediately. She had this weird sensation all over her body. She didn’t have anything that tied her to the brothers, and yet, she felt like if she were to help them, maybe some of the horrible things of her past would get off her shoulders. It was selfish, yes, but she was so sick of that life. She needed to change, or she’d drown. After a few moments, she realized that she had not heard any noise for some time; there was no running water, no coughing, no nothing. She was about to knock on the bathroom door but decided to open it instead—big mistake.

‘Oh shit, sorry. I just wanted to check on you.’

‘It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before.’

‘Put a towel on, Alexander.’

He left out a chuckle and continued shaving. He put on his underwear and shirt and came out of the bathroom. Alexandria was pacing around. When she heard him, she stopped in her tracks and observed him. Alexander couldn’t figure out what she was staring at, but suddenly, he realized: she had her eyes locked in his forearm. She quietly approached and took a closer look at the small bruises surrounding the unmistakable marks of a recent injection. He tried to hide his arms behind him, but it was useless.

‘What is this, Alexander?’

Shame was written all over his face. He turned around, facing the wall. All this time, he longed to have her close to him, but he was so embarrassed by his actions that he wanted to tell her to go away. He was not going to handle her disappointed look.

‘I used… something that Bagwell gave me… I’m sorry.’ He felt like he was going to cry again.

Instead of an angry tone, he was surprised to feel her arms surrounding him. Her head was on his shoulder, meaning she was standing on her tippy toes. ‘Don’t be… it’s okay… you need help, Alexander. That’s the main reason I want you out of there. Every day, I wake up with this horrible sensation, thinking you are not going to resist and that I’ll see your body being dragged outside. You have every reason to give up, and yet you haven’t. That’s very brave.’

‘You are the reason I haven’t given up yet.’

He let out a sigh and turned to face her. She didn’t have a frown on her face. Instead, she had a sad expression, with tears threatening to fall. He placed one hand on her cheek, feeling her shiver at his touch.

‘I don’t know what will happen with this hearing, Brie. But I promise you that I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to get you to forgive me. Try to be happy because that’s the only thing I want because I do lov-‘

She grabbed him by his shirt collar to deepen the kiss. He brought her as close as possible, begging whoever ruled the universe to make every second last longer. Clothes started to fly again, but this time, they weren’t in a rush; it was smooth, tranquil… romantic. Even Brie would admit that they were making love. He left sweet and delicate kisses all over her body, and she caressed his hair with genuine affection. They didn’t even care that Sullins and Lang might come in any second; for those moments, they were the only people on the whole planet.

‘I don’t want you to go.’ He was holding her in his arms; their breathing had barely begun to stabilize. His voice was merely a whisper.

‘I can’t stay, Alexander. If Sullins enters-‘

‘I don’t mean right now; I know you can’t be in the hearing. I mean, after everything is over… I don’t know what life is without you, Brie.’

‘You had a whole life before you met me. You can have one after me. We’ll both get what we want: I’ll go away and start a new life, and you’ll return to Pam and Cameron. That’s the plan that was always the plan.’

‘And what is this? What are we doing? And no, don’t tell me it was a prolonged mistake.’

‘I… I…’

‘I love you, and I know you think I’m lying, but it’s true.’

She stood up and started gathering her clothes. She started dressing herself, facing the wall. Alexander kept staring at her, his heart beating incredibly fast. Between the withdrawal, the extreme heat, the lack of sleep and food, and the new drug’s effects, he had a hard time distinguishing between reality and fantasy. But he had just one certainty: he loved her more than he wanted to admit. Maybe there was a universe on which he didn’t fuck up things, on which he decided to wait for her, on which he wasn’t a coward.

‘I need to go back and see what happened with the escape.’

‘I love you, Brie.’

‘Apparently, it was because fucking Scofield put all of his hope on Panamanian’s sun.’

‘I love you, Brie.’

‘Maybe I can convince him to follow my original idea, but everyone will be watching him if they find out he was the one who wanted to escape.’

‘I love you, Brie.’

‘Sara Tancredi is dead. L.J. Burrows has been kidnapped. I want to help them. Maybe it's not my place to intervene, but I can no longer bear that everything in my life dies, disappears, or doesn't choose me...’

‘But I’m choosing you right now…’

She was fully dressed now, her hair once again in a tight bun. Standing there, she looked like Alexandria Jones—an FBI agent, a professional assassin, and the most heartless person you’ll ever meet. But as she turned around, Brie appeared: vulnerable, emotional, and, more importantly, heartbroken.

‘I used to say the same thing… but you are one year too late, Alexander. I’m sorry.’

She sat on the edge of the bed. Slowly, she removed the chain she always wore around her neck. It was the typical military plaque containing important information about the soldier, but this one was special: the name on the tag read simply “Brie-Alexander Mahone.” It was made under extraordinary circumstances that will not be discussed right now. That little dash represented their union, which would always remain. It was metal, after all.

‘I want you to have this. It has my number behind it. When you are back in Chicago… call me, and I’ll visit you if I’m around.’

She placed the chain around his neck, trying to avoid his eyes. When she was done, she finally raised her eyes. Slowly, she approached, closing the distance between them. He wanted so badly to hold her and deepen the kiss, but he held back. It was a goodbye kiss. A few seconds later, they parted ways, and she made her way to the window.

‘I love you, Brie.’

‘I loved you, Alexander.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

She was there one second, and the next one, she was climbing down from the window. He kissed the small plaque hanging around his neck. He felt like the stupidest and the luckiest man in the world—a weird combination. With a sad smile, he tried to go to sleep. It was one of those dreamless nights, and he was grateful for that.

The following morning, however, was horrible. Withdrawal did not let up. He was shaking and sweating once again. He had to take another shower because Sullins’ disgusted face was enough to make him aware that he would not have a chance in front of the jury. And he was right: throughout the hearing, he could not stay still. In part because of all the implications regarding his confessions, there was a high possibility that the moment he started saying all the things he knew about the Company, someone from them would open fire in the Courtroom, and he’d be dead in seconds. He also couldn’t stop thinking about his imminent future. Would he see Brie again? Would she keep her promise? How would he explain to Cameron that he would be in prison for some time? What would Pam say?

Pam… He hadn’t thought of her in a while. His last moments as a free man were devoted to begging her to forgive him and to try again. Now, he wasn’t sure he wanted the same things. Giving Cameron the family Alexander never had was his objective all this time, but that wish seemed so far away now. He wasn’t the same person (he didn’t even feel like a person). Maybe with some work, he could get back to that life: he would give up and subdue to whatever Pam wanted, and maybe that could work. He’d be the family man he always wanted to be. The picture-perfect family. He’d forget about Scofield, the Company, the FBI, the thrill of a chase. He would forget about Brie.

He needed to convince himself that was the life he wanted. He’d sacrificed so much to protect his family; he had done things they would never be aware of to save them. It was stupid to change his dreams now, right? Right? Something inside him was aware that treating Pam as his second choice because Brie didn’t love him was selfish and stupid. That same voice told him that he’d never be happy if he were not honest with himself and that he still had a choice. But he didn’t want to think anymore. He wanted to go with the obvious option. He was a fucking coward.

As expected, these thoughts ruined his chances of even forming a coherent sentence in the hearing. Sullins probably wanted to kill him on the spot. He knew the verdict before he even stepped out of the room to let them discuss. Lang came first, informing him she had to take him back to Sona. Sullins didn’t even bother to say anything else to him.

He took a deep breath before stepping out of the van. He exchanged glances with Lang, who seemed very concerned about his well-being. He was about to reassure her that everything would be fine when something else caught his attention. He said his goodbyes and walked away with the guard. He took his time to confirm what was in front of him: Michael Scofield was in the middle of the yard, inside a tiny plastic-covered cage. Things had really gone wrong.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

‘So, where is Mahone?’

‘Probably in a plane right now, I don’t know… Did they really bring a helicopter to break out Whistler?’

She had only been away for a day and a half, and apparently, everything happened in seconds. After their failed attempt, the Company tried to break Whistler out with a helicopter, but Michael was able to stop them. Then, Scofield was put in a special cage on the outside and was tortured into confessing what his real intentions were. At one point, Susan (whose real name was Gretchen Morgan, apparently), the woman from the Company, was also detained by Sona’s director, demanding her part of the story. Everything was a mess, and that guy, Whistler, was more connected than they initially thought. Sofia had found many fake IDs and what seemed like encrypted documents; that woman was having a true crisis, realizing that the man she loved was hiding many things from her. Alexandria almost laughed at the similarities.

After she left the hotel, she met Lincoln at the convenience store, and he updated her on everything that had happened. Honestly speaking, she was impressed that Lincoln was really motivated and had started to move some of his chess pieces, forming a strategy alongside Sucre to corner the Company and have something under their sleeve. If there was going to be a hostage exchange, it would be under the brother’s terms. Later on, she connected the dots between Lincoln’s new attitude and some of the events: he was able to see his son for just a moment, which gave him the strength to continue. He omitted the fact that he and Sofia were getting “closer,” but Alexandria didn’t want to know anything about love at the moment.

‘Michael knows about Sara.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He was really angry at me… and also really sad.’

‘I don’t blame him… You know, I have studied Scofield back and forth, and I think I know him somehow. This is going to make him want to escape even more. You get into Scofield and someone he loves, and you’re going to lose.’

‘We need a new plan.’

‘We have plans. Good plans. We need to stop being assholes.’

‘A truce until all of them are out.’

‘And L.J. is safe and sound.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was weird having to write Scofield’s name in the visiting register instead of Alexander's. It was weird coming back to Sona. And it was even weirder to know that you have more in common with the people you once chased than you thought: they all wanted to destroy the Company. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, some would say.

‘I didn’t believe Lincoln when he told me you would come here.’

‘We have a truce. And little time. So, are you going to listen to me finally?’

‘That depends.’

‘Michael, I’m not doing this because I like you or your brother. I’m not even doing this for Alexander.’

‘Then for who?’

‘Sara and L.J. So, I need you to tell me that it will not be “my plan” or “your plan.” It’s our plan; we need to be smarter than them. Then you can try and stab me in the back if you like.’

‘Sounds like a deal.’

‘So, my first proposal is the same I’ve been telling you: we must do this at night. I think you no longer trust clouds.’

‘Fair enough, I’ve already found a way to the yard. What are we going to do with the guards, the cars, the lights…’

‘One step at a time. You engineer boy, can help with the latter.’

‘The generators.’

‘Exactly.’

‘And then… Linc?’ They turned around to see Lincoln arriving at the visitation cage.

‘Burrows what the hell are you doing? You’ve wasted his second visit and we need to come back later!’

‘Technically, I’m not visiting Michael. And we all need to agree on what we are going to do.’

It all happened in slow motion. The visitation door opening, he approaching. And that announcement she didn’t expect to hear again.

“Mahone, visit!”

Chapter Text

‘I thought you were on a plane.’

‘Plane? He returned here yesterday. I called Lincoln this morning to coordinate visits.’ Michael was slightly confused. Well, the four of them were.

‘Surprise, surprise then.’ Alexandria was not taking her eyes off Alexander. He was wearing the suit that Sullins gave him for the trial, but he was covered in dirt for some reason. ‘How are you getting to the fence?’

‘Lechero has a tunnel connected to his cell. He also wants to escape, so he let me check it, and… it’s a way out to the middle of the yard.’

‘Michael, we cannot keep freeing criminals.’ Lincoln was not happy with that confession.

‘Bagwell is coming out as well.’ Alexander said shyly.

‘Shit. How many, Michael?’ Alexandria was angry as well.

‘T-Bag, Lechero, Whistler, Bellick, Alex, and myself.’

‘That’s three too many. We are going to need a distraction.’ Lincoln started pacing around.

‘Or someone on the inside.’ Jones and Mahone said simultaneously. The brothers stared at the other duo with curiosity.

‘I don’t think it’s that difficult getting some guard’s clothing if you know where to ask.’ Alexander said.

‘The rifle shouldn’t be a problem either.’ Alexandria said.

‘And if we do it at night, it’s even better.’ Michael answered.

‘Okay… this is really weird. Anyway, one of us covers from here while the rest of us follow the rest of the plan.’

‘I’m not convinced; we need to elaborate on that. I think it’s too risky to have just one cover… we are only three on the outside. You’ll have to be quick. Have you solved the generator thing?’

‘I’m almost there.’

‘Ok, we’ll be back in the afternoon for updates on the tunnel and see what we can do about everything else.’

‘We’ll do our best.’

‘Then your best has to be enough.’

Michael started heading back inside, and Lincoln began walking away, but Alexander and Alexandria remained there. She was still in shock. Why did the universe drag them back to each other whenever she was ready to let him go?

‘What happened?’

‘They didn’t approve the information I gave them… and they sent me back here.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be. Hopefully, I’ll be out soon.’

‘Yeah, hopefully. How are you holding up?’

‘Not well.’

‘It’ll be over soon, Alexander. I… we all are going to make it happen.’

‘I like that you use my phrases against Scofield. I’ll see you soon, Brie.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Dealing with criminals is never easy. Working with people that you don’t trust is a little bit worse. Combine the two, and you get yourself a party from hell. Ironically enough, Michael was leaning on Alexander to avoid losing his head with the other future escapees. His little trust in Whistler quickly dissolved after the latter tried to escape with the Company, putting L.J.’s life at risk. Mahone was the only one in tune with him, and now that he was back, Alexandria’s terms for the deal were back in place. Michael knew that trusting him came with a price, but he had no other option, and they were running out of time. The Company only gave them four additional days to get out.

‘Alex, take a break, come back later.’

Everyone knew Mahone was not okay, but Michael was in charge, and everyone was too busy to question him for now. Alexander basically dragged himself out of the tunnel and went straight to his cell. He was trembling and sweating, and the world was spinning and shaking. He felt like he was going to faint or die, whatever came first.

He laid down on his bed, trying to control himself. The only good thing about this phase of his withdrawal was that he was no longer seeing Patoshik. He was all alone in this misery. He wanted to hold onto a good memory, something that distracted his mind from exploding. But he couldn’t concentrate; he was falling slowly into a void of darkness. He heard the sound of someone approaching. A few seconds later, an envelope fell into his stomach. He didn’t think that Sona had a mailing system. There were two objects inside; the first one was a message:

H o l d o n f o r h i m a n d t r u s t y o u r s e l f. M a k e i t t o t h a t p a r t y. –B r i e

And the second thing was a photo. The picture of his son that was in his wallet. That very needed good memory suddenly was there. And even better, there were two of them. He remembered some months after the divorce when he took him to the countryside to see the stars in their full glory. He’d never forget Cameron’s eyes open wide and that astonished expression on his face. He told him that he was the best father in the world. It was a boys' trip: they ate burnt marshmallows and slept under the stars. Truly, it was one of the best days ever.

Brie also had a place in that story. The following morning, the car wouldn’t start, so he had to call the towing company. Brie arrived shortly after with another vehicle to take them home. Most of his memories with her involved missions, gunshots, blood, and, of course, sex. But that was one of the few memories of them just being people. Regular, mundane, boring people. But happy people. She brought that cassette that Cameron liked a lot, with space-related songs. So, it was just the three of them singing along to “Life on Mars?” “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” and “Fly me to the moon” all the way home. He got in trouble with Pam afterward, but it didn’t matter.

He continued staring at the photo when he noticed something peculiar about the message. There were some small dots underneath some of the letters. Even with his mind going back and forth, he managed to arrange the marked letters: “Stay Behind MS.” Why did he have to stay behind Scofield? It didn’t make sense… Maybe he got it wrong. His head started spinning again. Lately, his symptoms would come and go, stronger than before. He felt like he was about to throw up when he saw Bagwell standing right next to him.

‘It’s okay, I came back for you. Come on, everything is going to be okay. You can’t deprive yourself like this.’ He was handing him another syringe and the white substance.

‘Get… get out of here.’

‘You don’t mean that.

‘Yeah, yeah I do!’ He was shaking violently.

‘You are not talking straight. Withdrawals are the worst way to die. You are gonna shake and sweat until you evaporate into nothing. You got a long bumpy road into hell! Is that what you want, Alex, or do you want to live?!’

That was it. He was still a weak coward, but he held onto his memories, the people he loved. He was going to make it; he just had to hold on a little longer—for Cameron, Brie, and himself.

‘I’ll see you on the other side.’

After those words, Bagwell hid the drugs reluctantly and was heading to the exit when suddenly, he pushed Alexander to the floor and started to kick him repeatedly in his stomach and back. Alexander hissed from the pain, gasping for air, and he felt that the shaking increased exponentially.

‘When you’re up all night, and diarrhea is running down both your legs and vomit is in your hair, don’t come crawling back.’

Maybe the universe wanted him to see his son for the last time and have some fond memories in his last seconds alive. The pain was unbearable, and he felt like he was going to faint or maybe die. The picture was on his bed, and he couldn’t reach it. But then he remembered. He grabbed the metal plaque and kissed it repeatedly, trying to focus on something else. Somehow, his body started to relax, and before he fell profoundly asleep, he was able to see his beloved green eyes in front of him. A sudden peace invaded his heart.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“I’m not convinced; we need to elaborate on that.” Alexandria’s words kept repeating in Michael’s head and for one good reason. He believed that as well. Lincoln came to visit him later that same day, telling him that he’d figured out what to do with the generator: he would crash a bus into the light pole so that the external electricity would go off. Then the backup generator would start, and in that brief period, all of them would have to come out of the tunnel and run to the fence. Sucre had already managed to create a hole in it, but it wasn’t big enough to have all of them come out at once; it would have to be one by one, and there were six of them.

He had called the electric company to know how much time they had, but the information was not promising. The thing that had occurred to him was that Linc, Sucre, and Jones would all have to pose as guards so that they could have more time, but it was going to be very difficult, he needed them in their respective positions. Lincoln had to go and talk to Susan/Gretchen, and Sucre was working, so right now, he could only speak to Alexandria. The question was how? Mahone was having one of his episodes and wasn’t sure he could get the correct information, so Alexandria was the only choice. Much to his luck, Alex arrived at that moment.

‘Welcome back, Alex, I need your help.’ Alexander approached Michael.

‘I need to speak with Alexandria, but Lincoln already visited me twice today. Can you make that happen?’

‘I have a phone number.’

‘Good, that will work. Keep digging over there.’ Michael then approached Lechero, the only person in Sona with a cell phone.

‘Again, waterboy? I don’t like it when people do stuff behind my back, and more so with my own phone. Teodoro here already told me you conspired to abandon him when you escaped that other prison, right Teodoro?’

‘That’s right, patrón. He wanted to abandon me like a dog.’

‘You all can come and listen; I’m going to talk with one of the people helping from the outside.’

Lechero gave Michael the phone, and he handed it to Alexander so that he could place the number. Just as he was about to give it back, he quickly whispered in Michael’s ear:

‘If you want to tell her that people are listening to her, make her a comment about the weather before you start. That’s our code.’

He just finished saying that, and the call went on. ‘Hello?’

‘Jones, it’s Scofield. Are you still enjoying the Panamanian sun?’

‘I don’t like spending money on new blouses, but the black ones were going to kill me. What do you need?’

‘The plan… we need more people to cover all the bases; I’m worried that you three won’t be enough for the six of us.’

‘Says the man that broke seven people with him out of prison … But I agree, so I thought of something. Can you wait just a second? And go to Alexander’s cell? I need to show you something.’

All the men in Lechero’s cell looked at each other confused but went together to Alex’s cell. Except for Whistler and Bellick, the other four men grabbed one-half of the binoculars that Lechero provided and started searching for Alexandria. Alexander was the first one to notice her; she was on someone’s roof, beating an improvised punching bag with all her might

‘Did you find me?’

‘Yes, what’s all of this?’ Michael was confused yet intrigued.

‘You caught me in the middle of my training. And also I wanted to show you this place. It’s the house of the man I work for; we can use it as a first stop to lose track of them before going to the beach.’ Between each phrase, she would hit multiple times the punching bag and move around, dragging her feet. The noise intertwining with her words. ‘But it comes with a price.’

‘And it’s?’

‘My boss is Alphonso Gallegos, father of Luis Gallegos, a kid who has been there for about three years. Do you know him? He goes by McGrady.’

‘Yes, I know him.’

‘Then you know what to do.’

‘Jones, we cannot carry anyone else with us.’

‘He’s a good man, Scofield. A trustworthy man. And a father desperate to have his son back, I think you know those are capable of anything. He can be useful, especially since he knows the city better than us and has two cars.’ She continued hitting the punch bag and moving around. ‘What do you say?’

‘Ok, I guess… what about the other part?’

‘I got the guard uniform. I’ll be the one entering, and I’ll park right at the entrance of the tunnel. I’ll give you a head’s out from there.’

‘Hey Mahone, tell your girlfriend to stop moving around; I can’t concentrate!’ Everybody turned to see Alexander once Lechero said that. On the other side of the line, there was silence. Those who had the half binoculars were left startled when Alexandria, with a single hit, managed to break the punching bag, sending it to the ground.

‘I’ll go later on if I have updates. Keep digging; that tunnel needed to be ready yesterday.’

Nobody wanted to say anything else. The six men made their way back to the tunnel, but before they went back in, Michael grabbed Alexander to “help him get more tools.”

‘So, I wanted to make sure I understood the real message. Because I don’t think “The water is warm” is what she wanted to tell us.’

‘A taste of your own medicine, Michael.’ When Michael and Lincoln kidnapped the cameraman to deliver a message to Sara some months ago, he used the same message to distract the FBI agents and make them waste time. ‘She has always loved boxing for many reasons, but most importantly, because people always focus too much on the punches and not on the other body parts.’

‘The dragging of her feet.’

‘No house. Direct to the beach. Need to sacrifice.’ Michael and Alexander said simultaneously.

‘That has to work. If you see her later, tell me everything she adds.’

‘Of course.’

They were about to head back when Michael stopped in his tracks.

‘Alex. You call her the other day, Brie… why was that?’

‘None of your business.’

‘I don’t want surprises with her, Alex. We have a truce, remember?’

‘You won’t find anyone better for the job, Michael. So be happy that truce exists.’

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“Mahone, visit!”

After Michael’s call, it started to rain. Mr. Gallegos used the excuse to close earlier, but in reality, he was getting ready to prepare the getaway car on the docks. He was excited to see his son again but also very nervous. Alexandria couldn’t blame him. She was also extremely anxious. She and Alexander had been kidnapped or held hostage on multiple occasions, and they had always managed to free each other, but this was a very different situation. Many factors were playing against them.

The rain had stopped by her noon visit. On her way to the cage, she received a call from Lincoln, telling her that Michael was changing the escape time from tomorrow to that same day. The water endangered the tunnel's overall structure, and they risked it to collapse. She was able to see it from where she was standing. It might have been mistaken for a puddle of rain, but it was too big and would soon attract attention. She understood the situation, but the stress of so many changes upset her. Several details were missing from the plan, plus she had never worked with Sucre or Lincoln, so she didn't know what they could do in an emergency.

‘Hi.’

‘Hi… are you okay?’

‘I had an episode, but I’m fine. I didn’t take anything else.’

‘Good, that’s good. Did… did you get my message?’

‘Yes. All of them.’

‘You are going to make it, Alexander.’

‘I’m starting to believe so. Michael… wanted to know if you have any updates.’

‘Mr. Gallegos accepted the deal. He’ll be waiting in the docks as I cannot make it from Sona to there in the agreed time. Sucre is manipulating the guards’ cars, and Lincoln is dealing with the hostage exchange stuff.’

‘Seems everything is going well.’

‘As well as it can be considering the time frame.’ Alexandria was not looking at him. Her voice had a minuscule trembling, but Alexander noticed it right away.

‘The plan is moving well, you covered everything that could be covered.’

‘One of the first things you said to me when we met was that thing of “your best has to be enough”… Alexander, I don’t feel like it’s going to be enough this time.’

‘Brie, you are the best fucking agent I’ve ever worked with. You are unbelievably smart, and your best is more than most people can achieve.’ Alexander’s voice was soothing and calm. He was trying to catch her gaze.

‘If we make it, it’ll be one of the most impossible things we’ve ever done.’

‘Another thing to add them to our list.’ Now she was looking at him. He gave her a small smile. She kept staring back at him. He didn’t add anything else. It was the first time in months that hearing nothing was reassuring him. After some minutes, he was ready to say goodbye but she interrupted his thoughts.

‘Do you trust me?’

He was taken aback by the question, but he had never doubted that answer. ‘With my life.’

‘I'll see you soon, Alexander.'

That woman was going to be either the death of him or his salvation.

Chapter Text

When was the last time you felt your chest exploding? When was the last time you were so eager to take the universe in your hands that you would do anything to achieve it? When was the last time you got chills just thinking about what will happen in the next few minutes?

Alexandria usually had an established set of answers for those questions: 1. When she had a grenade exploding really close to her (sometimes she took things too literally). 2. The day before her exam at the military, her only chance under “special circumstances” to prove herself. 3. When they took Abruzzi down.

But right now, as she dressed up in a military-like guard uniform, she started thinking of other answers: 1. Right here and now. 2. Right here and now. 3. Right here and now.

Stress and excitement were fighting inside her. It was a different sensation from when she and Alexander went on missions. They had equal chances of everything going very well or failing miserably. Instinctively, she looked to her right, a vision that most of her life meant comfort. Her emotions also fought inside her, and she knew she needed to address them.

When she left that hotel room, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders, believing that that chapter of her life was finally over. Yes, it hurt. Yes, she wasn’t completely honest when she said “loved.” Yes, she felt like dying with every “I love you” from him. But it needed to end, for better or for worse. Yet, he came back. Neither was expecting that to happen, and she knew he probably didn’t know what to do either. They were in a limbo, unable to move, escape, or do anything. Maybe the universe was forcing them back together to solve the mess they had created. A mess that was not supposed to happen. The hourglass was moving continuously, momentarily filling her with the sands of love and then taking them away.

In that warehouse, when she was about to kill Michael, Lincoln, and Kim, one of the things that prevented her from doing it, aside from her anger toward Alexander, was that she was not ready to let go. The chase was the only thing keeping them together, and that’s what mattered to her. Even if he was only using her. Even if he was telling Pam that he’d always love her right in front of her. Maybe she was a masochist, after all. And now… she was a mess.

She wanted to go far away, yet she wanted to hold his hand once he was out. She wanted to change her legal name so nobody would find her, yet that secret agent party sounded beautiful… she already looked the part. She was ready to start again, yet a part of her wanted to start again with him.

‘I don’t have time for this!’

She needed to get that out of her chest. And she was right. It was almost time. Everything needed to be perfect: she didn’t care much about Whistler, but the life of one teenager was at risk; L.J. shouldn’t have been part of all this, and now, neither did Sofia. She didn’t know what happened or how it happened, but Gretchen managed to kidnap her as well, apparently to push Whistler’s buttons as well as Lincoln’s. Her goal of no more innocent suffering because of all this mess was not going well.

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There was still a lot to do. He knew they were close to the surface, but more and more dirt was appearing, and there seemed to be no end. It also didn’t help that the tensions in the “team” were escalating. T-Bag was trying to make everyone turn their backs on Michael and create alliances with whoever wanted to listen. When he started quoting the Bible, Alexander had had enough. He moved to another section of the tunnel, close to where Bellick was also digging. Unfortunately for him, the man was also considering betraying Michael, and was trying to convince Mahone to hand the brothers to the authorities and become national heroes. He even offered him a book deal with their “adventures.”

‘It’ll make you happy, Brad?’

‘You got a better idea?’

‘Yeah, I do.’

‘Something to do with the wife and kid?’

‘Yeah, something like that.’

‘Oh, I see… hey, since you are going to go with them… do you think Alexandria might want to… I don’t know… hang out with me?’

‘Hang out with you?’

‘Come on, Alex. What’s a guy like me gonna do when we are out of here? And… I mean… she and me… we haven’t talked that much but I like her, she is cool and… well…’

‘Be careful with your words, Brad.’

‘I’m just saying that I think that we both will need companionship. I can take a wild guess and say she’s not coming back to the FBI or even the States. You’ll go with your wife and kid; the rest will also be gone… maybe we can keep each other company… be… friends, you know?’

‘Keep digging, Brad. We’ll worry once we get out.’

The jealousy inside him gave him the strength to keep digging. Bellick didn’t know a damn thing, and yet, he had managed to crack the code. Even a guy like him could see that Alexandria was in love with Mahone and that Mahone was desperate to go back with his family. He didn’t know how to tell him that things had changed dramatically. Yes, he wanted to see Cameron, clear the air with Pam… but he wanted to do that with Brie.

The first thing he wanted to do once they escaped was to hold her in his arms and never let go again. He knew he would have to work extremely hard to regain her trust, but he was ready for the task. He just hoped it wasn’t too late. Pam always told him that he wouldn’t listen to anybody once he had a goal set. Anybody except Brie, of course. But now, he wasn’t listening on purpose: she had already told him that once he was out, she’d go away. He could bet that that time she offered to visit him in prison (when Sullins' deal was still on) was to make sure he was indeed paying for his crimes. She had said her goodbyes and even confessed that she had loved him at some point. It all seemed pretty conclusive, but Alexander was not ready to accept it. He felt it on every visit and look when they were making love… there was something in there, almost extinguished, but he would fight for it whatever it took.

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Sucre made a small but visible scratch in one of the vehicles’ fenders, signaling the only van he did not sabotage. As soon as she was inside, she froze for one second. It was happening. In just a few moments, chaos would reign. She had done so many illegal things throughout her life, but this was the only one she did not feel guilty about. That didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous.

She stared at her rife long and hard. The original idea was to create a crossfire, but given how many were escaping, the probability of a lost bullet reaching any of them was high. So, Michael said no bullets. Maybe he was really naïve, or he was still disturbed that he had to kill (indirectly) one of Lechero’s friends so that the escape could go on. Still, Alexandria knew they needed protection, not that much for the guards, but for the people waiting outside. Surprisingly enough, Lincoln agreed with her, so he gave her a loaded gun to be prepared for whatever may come. She had it in her room, and the rifle in her hands only had two bullets: one for Lechero and one for T-Bag. She wasn’t feeling guilty because both would never live to see the light of day. Two final kills as a professional assassin. Two final bullets before her new life.

Alexander always could rely on her being serene and calm before a mission, at least on the outside. If only he could see her now. Lincoln caused the blackout in time; she was grateful for the sudden darkness because she couldn’t control her shaking. She hated being able to recall the Bible verses by heart, but for the first time, she found it helpful: “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep.” Some might say it was the calm before the storm.

“And God said, ‘Let there be light.’”

It only took 15 seconds. Alexandria and Michael knew all of them couldn't come out of the tunnel without being seen. So, some sacrifices would need to be made. The plan was simple, and it was just basic psychology: those who didn’t trust Michael from the beginning would want to come out first, given the short time. So she didn’t flinch when she saw Lechero and T-Bag emerge from the ground. The thing she was not ready for was seeing Bellick with those two. As much as she wanted to say she didn’t care about him, she was also a person who was starving for human connection; their minimal interactions in the last couple of weeks were enough for her to consider him someone worth saving, someone who wanted to start again, someone a little bit like her. But humans were unpredictable, and she had to suppress the knot forming in her stomach. He was not going to make it, and she couldn’t do anything about it.

And then, it was show-time. Fortunately for her, her subconscious still knew how to drive. She and several other guards entered the perimeter, looking everywhere to see if there were other escapees. T-Bag and Bellick immediately kneeled on the ground, but Lechero kept running; she counted ten bullets before he fell to the ground. He wasn’t dead, but soon will be. She parked right above the tunnel entrance, with several other vehicles behind her and dozens of guards suddenly arriving. She let out a big sigh and stepped out, pretending to search around, but she was just waiting. Waiting for the perfect moment.

For Michael, the paper cup falling from her grip felt like years; for her, the last seconds of her mental peace. That was the agreed signal. She could hear the faint movement under the van conveniently masked by the strenuous sound of Sona’s alarm. She was in charge of marking the pace: the people under the truck would move to the following van when she did, and so on. One false move, and it would all be over.

The fence was getting closer and closer. She was trying her best not to draw any attention and to “follow her superior’s orders,” but so many things were happening simultaneously. She could feel herself sweating profusely. Because there were no female guards (and Lincoln and Sucre were too tall for the uniforms), she had to use an extra layer of protection, including a balaclava, which was not helping her to withstand the heat that was still very intense at night. Add that to her anxiety, and you’ll deduce that she was not doing great.

The fence was just a few feet away, but the hiding places were over. They were on their own. She waited once again, ready to give them the second signal, when she saw one of the officers approaching. Her heartbeat increased with each step he took, and she could bet the people under the last van were also on the verge of a nervous wreck. It couldn’t be; they were so close. She thought about the rifle, and for one second, everything was blurry. All sensations were leaving her body and were replaced with the feeling of defeat. She felt a slight touch on her ankle, but she couldn’t process what that meant.

This couldn’t be the end of it. It just couldn’t.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He started running like he had never run before. He didn’t want his last physical contact with Brie to be him grabbing her ankle. When he saw the guard approaching her, he had to fight the urge to come out from the hiding spot, but he would be blowing up all the plans. The most ironic part is that he was perfectly aware that Brie could take care of herself and that the guard would not represent any danger to her, but he was worried. This sensation inside of him had only emerged with Cameron and Pam at the time: he wanted to protect her at all costs.

Because she protected him at all costs, it turns out he was right: the message was “Stay behind MS” for one good reason. When they were about to escape from the tunnel, Lechero, T-Bag, and Bellick decided to go first to prevent Michael from doing anything “suspicious.” Scofield seemed very calm about it; he even offered Alexander to go with them.

‘You want to move up in line, too?’

‘No, I think I’m going stay back here.’

That message was the difference between them running through the jungle and those three back at Sona. He kept running. He had a vague idea of what would happen next, mainly because the whole plan was kept secret from everyone but Scofield and Brie; they couldn’t risk leakages, so they would only reveal essential pieces of information at a time. He knew they would arrive at a virgin beach next; he could smell the ocean nearby, and the realization that they were out finally dawned on him, increasing his pace.

And, of course, Whistler had to ruin everything. Next he knew, the Australian was on the ground, claiming that he had sprained his ankle and begging the rest to leave him there. Everyone knew that was not an option, and if Alexander was honest, the “incident” looked rather suspicious. He had to drag Whistler to the beach, where Lincoln awaited them. The next strike for Whistler was losing his bird book: the man was stubborn and kept saying he was a fisherman who liked to watch birds. However, the Company seemed highly interested in that book and the things that Whistler scribbled in it. Maybe the Company should invest in someone who teaches their people some acting skills.

They were about to go into the water: they couldn’t risk bringing a boat all the way to the shore, so they had to swim some miles to become invisible. When he saw the portable oxygen tank, he smiled a little bit­­--- he was the one who had taught Alexandria how to use them. Lincoln had just finished talking on the phone with the woman from the Company and was about to place his phone in a plastic bag when he remembered.

‘Would you please… it’s a picture of my son. Can you… in the bag?’

‘Screw you, Mahone. Let’s go.’

Impotence and anger filled his body. Unfortunately, they had no time to fight; they had to be underwater in the next five seconds. Salty water filled his nostrils, and that horrible burning sensation overpowered him, but he kept going, following Michael’s lead. After some minutes, they reached a buoy, where they were supposed to wait for Sucre and the boat.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

She felt so vulnerable in that moment that she almost forgot that she was supposed to be this trained assassin who knew how to act under any circumstances. She breathed in and out again and tried to focus; she couldn’t be the cause of the mission failing. She identified the guard as Sucre’s boss; the man had been at Alphonso’s store several times, and Alexandria wondered if he had recognized her. Fortunately for her, his radio caught his attention, and she used that distraction to get lost in the multitude of guards quickly. Slowly, she made her way out of Sona and started running toward the store.

The power outage affected not only Sona but also the neighboring buildings. She was running in the dark, barely remembering what the road looked like in daylight. She almost got it: when she was in front of the store, she crashed into a palm tree. She felt the blood coming out of her nose and the scratch that formed on her left cheek. Cursing at herself, she entered the store and grabbed her gun. The sun was coming out, and they should have arrived at the beach by then. She knew she had to prepare for the next steps, but all the adrenaline had drained her, so she decided to take just one second to sit down and breathe. Just then, she realized she had five missing calls from Mr. Gallegos.

‘Hello?’

‘Miss Jones? I’m here at the docks, 312, but the other guy is not here… the one bringing the boat.’

‘What do you mean he’s not there?’

‘We were supposed to meet here 30 minutes ago.’

‘God dammit, Sucre! Ok, don’t worry, I have a copy of the rental, I’ll be there soon.’

‘Miss Jones… did Luis make it?’

‘I think I saw him, Mr. Gallegos, but I’m not sure. We’ll have to wait and see.’

She grabbed the keys to Mr. Gallegos’ van and started driving. Her fines for reckless driving were going to be international now. Twenty minutes later, she was there.

‘Hello, Miss Jones… are you okay?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine. Why?’

‘You have dry blood in your face… some scratches and a bruise as well.’

‘It’s nothing. Here’s the rental… do you know how to sail a boat?’

‘So so… the only thing is that I don’t know where we are supposed to go.’

And neither did Alexandria. When they created the plan, she suggested the boat counting on either Lincoln or Michael to take that task. By this point, she was sure something had happened to Sucre, and there was no use waiting for him. Alexander and the rest probably were already in the water, and anything could happen there. Alphonso and her would need to figure it out.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Alexander couldn’t remember how long they had been waiting in that buoy. Maybe minutes or maybe hours. The adrenaline that helped him escape was slowly dying, and the consequences of not eating, sleeping, withdrawal, and physical effort were starting to show. That kid, Luis, was beginning to give up. Everyone was having cramps or was starting to fall asleep from exhaustion. They also didn’t know what kind of creatures were under the surface. If Michael didn’t die in the next few minutes, he would use his last breath to kill him; there was no way that all their efforts would end up with them dead at the bottom of the ocean. He tried to focus on his happy memories, but knowing that the only picture that he had of his son was getting ruined made his heartache.

Ironically, the pictures that started popping into his head were the ones of his wedding. Pam and he married young, just 19 years old, after a few months of dating. Shortly after that, he enlisted in the military and went away. It was never easy; they barely knew each other and thought that love was enough to make it through. It did for some time, but as they grew as people and their careers flourished, Alexander suddenly realized that they had changed and never addressed those differences. He refused to believe that was true; he pushed those thoughts to the back of his head. He just couldn’t let go for many reasons: first, Cameron was on his way; second, he had never had a functional family before and was scared to lose everything because of some misunderstandings; third, he was finally able to position himself at the FBI, and he finally felt useful; and finally, he had been assigned his first leading mission, meaning he didn’t need worries or distractions, he only had to focus on Oscar Shales.

The thought of Shales made him want to throw up (or perhaps it was the withdrawal again). He hated that forever; that name would be linked to the moment he met Brie. He could recall that day perfectly. He remembered her green eyes looking at him, hiding a million stories. She appeared out of nowhere when he needed her the most… she was… on a boat?

Chapter Text

“Yo estaba bien

Por un tiempo

Volviendo a sonreír

Luego anoche te vi

Tu mano me tocó

Y el saludo de tu voz

Te hablé muy bien y tu sin saber

Que he estado…”

He could distinguish her anywhere. She still had the guard uniform on and was looking in his direction, raising her arms. There was also a man next to her, Luis’ father. She seemed excited. Slowly, they approached the buoy, and she helped everyone get in. He would never get tired of the fireworks he felt in his stomach whenever their hands touched. He imagined the embrace to last longer, an eternity perhaps. But in reality, it was really brief. He quickly noticed the bruise and the scratch on her face, as well as the blood.

‘What happened to you?’

‘It’s nothing.’

‘Where is Sucre?’ Michael said.

‘I have no idea; he was supposed to be at the docks with Mr. Gallegos, but he never showed up.’

‘We gave it our best shot. We didn’t know exactly where we needed to meet you, but we figured it out.’ Mr. Gallegos shyly added while embracing his son.

‘I told you it was a good idea to include him, Michael.’ Alexandria said.

‘Let’s go; we are still not out of the woods yet.’

The rest of the “trip” was silent. Nobody wanted to say a word, and it was understandable. They were all exhausted, and they were not even done with the plan. Alexander was about to sit down and rest a little when he noticed Alexandria standing in the middle of the boat, her eyes constantly scanning around. He immediately understood what she was doing.

‘I’ll cover behind.’ He placed himself behind Alexandria, their backs against each other. ‘Just like old times.’

She didn’t say anything but he could feel her leaning slightly into him. They were analyzing their surroundings, alert of any sound that could indicate the Coast Guard approaching. Luis was looking at them with curiosity: he had never seen two people making the same expressions, acting with the same patterns, and so in the same channel, even when they weren’t looking at each other. He turned to see Michael and he returned him a knowing nod. Michael didn’t understand when or how he ended up working with the two people trying to kill him, but for one moment, he was happy that he did. After a few minutes, they finally arrived at the docks.

‘I think me looking like a guard helped to avoid raising suspicion.’ Alexandria said after tying up the boat.

‘They didn’t even hesitate, Miss Jones. Mister Lincoln, I brought your car; the boxes are in the trunk; I figured out that you needed the clothes to change.’ Alphonso said while handling everyone's clean clothes.

‘How’s the ankle?’ Michael asked Whistler.

‘I need to get off my feet… guys… I think we’ve got Company.’

Three guys in suits approached them quickly. They didn’t look like cops or guards, but rather private security, the kind the Company definitely had.

‘Okay we can do this by hook or by crook. Just give us Whistler.’

‘We had a deal!’ Lincoln was ready to fight.

‘Lincoln, get in the car.’ Alexandria quickly said, grabbing her gun discreetly.

‘What? No!’

‘Lincoln, you need Whistler. Get everyone in the car, and if necessary, you go. I can handle this.’

‘We can. Cleveland?’ Alexander was suddenly next to her.

‘I prefer St. Louis. I don’t want to shoot I just want to scare them like that time.’

‘St. Louis it is.’

‘What the hell are you talking about?!’

‘Lincoln, go!’

Lincoln, as a matter of fact, didn’t do anything. They all just stood there, watching Mahone and Alexandria approaching the three men. From one moment to the next, the action had begun. Alexandria grabbed the man on the left by the throat, knocking him down instantly. Alexander did something similar with the one on the right. The one in the middle tried to grab his weapon, but Alexandria quickly kicked him right in the forearm, probably breaking it in the process. The man around her neck would not budge and managed to break free from Alexandria's grip. His pistol was pointed dangerously at her temple, but Alexander quickly tackled him and began to slam him repeatedly to the ground. Alexander's man also tried to hit him, but she quickly threw a couple of punches, knocking him out immediately. The remaining man, seeing himself overpowered and with his arm broken, tried to run, but a simultaneous blow from the two ex-agents was enough to knock him to the ground in a sea of pain.

‘That… was… so cool!’

‘Come on, everyone we need to keep moving.’ Alexander said. He had some blood in his knuckles.

Mr. Gallegos quietly approached Lincoln and Alexandria. ‘Thank you for my boy. I hope you get your son back, too.’ Lincoln nodded. ‘And I think we are closing the store permanently Miss Jones.’

‘It’s been an honor, Mr. Gallegos, thanks for everything.’

‘Thank you. You have a real gift with the plants; don’t let that get lost.’

‘I won’t. Be safe.’ There was a small smile on her lips.

The father and son entered their van and drove away; they had a long journey to Colombia. The rest of the group entered Lincoln’s car and left the place as well.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Llorando por tu amor

Luego de tu adiós

Sentí todo mi dolor”

Alexandria and Lincoln didn’t like it when the other one was driving. Both thought that the other one was not either reckless enough or cautious enough. She was in the driver’s seat, trying to get all of them to the place where the exchange would take place, going as fast as she could in order not to get attention from the cops. They were going to trick the Company: that was not the place where Gretchen told them to go, but Lincoln and Michael had had enough. They were going to get L.J. and Sofia back on their own terms. They had everything planned for an escape route and for so many variables, but they didn’t count on them getting caught in their lie. The men they left at the docks probably alerted Gretchen because they had two cars following them close by.

‘Give me a break, God dammit!’ Alexandria pressed the pedal.

‘They must’ve gotten to McGrady’s dad, bugged this car… or one of us…’ Lincoln said.

‘Why didn’t they find us when we were in the water?’ Whistler asked.

‘It’s because the water was blocking the signal. What’d you do with that stopwatch that Gretchen gave you?’

‘Oh my God. I didn’t know. I didn’t know, Michael!’ As soon as Whistler gave that watch to Michael, he threw it through the window.

Alexandria managed to catch Alexander’s eye through the rear-view mirror. Lies. Whistler was a terrible liar. The chase continued until they reached the place they were looking for. An abandoned house that served as a perfect hiding spot. Or that’s how they wanted them to think. As soon as they got into the house (Mahone and Jones basically had to carry Whistler), they pressed play to the recording of gunshots that Sucre, Lincoln, and Alexandria prepared in advance. It was silly, as Burrows got the idea from Home Alone, but it was working. They quickly left the place with the Company agents shooting at no one.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“No es fácil de entender

Que al verte otra vez

Yo estoy llorando”

It was weird being back at that warehouse. It was the same place where once Lincoln was cuffed to a pipe, Alexander was begging Pam to come back, Michael was handling his plan and boat to Alex, and Alexandria’s heart broke in a million pieces. Now, the brothers were waiting for the Company and Gretchen to come to that location to make the exchange while Alexander and Alexandria were taking care of Whistler’s foot. It was finally coming to an end. Alexandria was busy trying to place some bandages on Whistler’s ankle when Alexander decided to talk with Michael.

‘Considering I don’t have a pony in this race, I guess this is when we say goodbye.’

Lincoln and Michael didn’t say a word. Alexandria was quietly listening, trying not to look and finish the bandage as quickly as possible to go with Alexander.

‘You think I’m going to let you just walk out of here? After what you did to us? After what you did to my dad?’

She eventually gave in and looked back. Lincoln was pointing at Alexander with a gun, her own gun. He must have taken it at some point. She left Whistler’s foot and approached the other three men.

‘I was going to kill you at the beach, but I didn’t want to do anything that was gonna get us caught. You shot my dad in the back; I’m going to give you the courtesy you never gave him. Now turn around.’

Fortunately for her, she still had her rifle with two bullets. ‘This was not part of the deal, Lincoln!’ She quickly placed herself between Lincoln and Alexander, her body covering his left side and was pointing directly to Lincoln’s head.

‘I guess the truce is over.’ He looked at her dead in the eye.

‘Linc, think about what you’re doing.’

‘I was told to choose between my loved ones and your family. That was my option, I had no choice.’

‘Go to hell.’ Lincoln and Alexandria simultaneously charged their guns

‘Linc, you don’t have to do this… I say-‘

The sound of breaking glass made the four of them look to the other side of the room. It was Whistler. He had escaped through the window. His ankle was not sprained, after all. Alexandria turned to look at Mahone, and both nodded. They started running toward the exit, not looking back.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Yo que pensé

Que te olvidé

Pero es verdad

Que te quiero más

Mucho más que ayer”

The hotel was in the middle of the road, and the lady at the front desk looked at them with disgust and some curiosity. They smelled so bad and were covered in dry blood, bruises, and scratches. He was wondering if she still wanted a single room; fortunately, she quickly said single, asked for some stuff from room service, and grabbed the keys.

‘Do you want to take a shower? Eat?’

‘I want to sleep for three weeks straight, Alexander.’

‘Let me at least take care of those scratches.’

‘I’m fine, your hand is worse.’

‘I don’t think so… do you want to tell me what happened?’

‘Don’t laugh, ok? It was very dark… and I was escaping Sona… and I crashed into a palm tree.’

Alexander left a soft chuckle out. ‘It’s okay… I think I saw a first-aid kit in the bathroom, be right back.’

Alexandria let herself down in the bed. They were all out, safe and sound. She expected to feel some kind of relief, but in reality, she couldn’t help feeling distressed. Saying goodbye to Alphonso was more difficult than she thought; she really had a good time working for the man despite everything that was going on; he taught her how to take care of the plants and, more importantly, to enjoy life a little bit. Then, it was the whole situation with Lincoln and Michael; she never expected to have any kind of bond with the brothers after the escape. However, the sudden change of attitude once the plan was over was surprisingly painful but realistic. They have always been enemies; it was just a truce.

And then, there was Alexander. She was aware of Alphonso’s confused face when she didn’t hug him back at the boat; that’s not how a desperate wife would receive her husband after rescuing him. But the battle of emotions inside her was not stopping. She wondered what would happen in the following days. Would they go back to the USA? Could they even get into a plane? When would the definitive goodbye be? Why was he taking so long?

‘Alexander? Are you alright?’ She entered the bathroom expecting to find him passed out on the floor. Instead, she saw the bathtub filled with warm water and something that smelled like roses. The toiletries were nearby neatly arranged as well as the first-aid kit. He was kneeling down next to the tub, trying to light a match.

‘Oh, sorry to keep you waiting… I… well, I… look, I know that there’s no way that a nice bath can compare with you saving my life over, and over, and over again, but… I just wanted to do something for you. I had to improvise with what I had, and… these matches are the closest we have to candles, but… I’ll give you some time to change.’

He stepped out of the bathroom to give her some privacy. She couldn’t move; she couldn’t even breathe. Slowly, she started taking off her clothes and walked into the tub. The water was perfect, and the smell of roses felt like a warm hug. The battle kept going, and at that moment, one of the sides was stronger than the other. A soft knock on the door made her turn slightly.

‘Ok, let me take care of that wound.’

She was very aware that she was the one naked and that there was no foam or anything covering her. But at no time did he try to see or touch her. He was just focused on cleaning the wound and applying some arnica on her bruises.

‘You can flinch; I know it burns like hell.’

‘I’m okay. You are surprisingly good at this.’

‘I learned from the best.’ Alexander smiled. ‘Remember when you pulled out six glasses out of me?’

‘It was our first week working together, and I thought you were not going to make it. You were crying like a baby.’

‘I’m sorry for not having your high tolerance to pain.’

‘Shut up.’ A small smile was forming on her lips. Alexander tried to look at her as much as he could, creating the memory. He had memorized every occasion on which he had seen Brie laugh or smile. ‘Give me your hand; you also need some help there.’

She cleaned the wound and placed some Band-Aids on his hand. Unlike in other circumstances, when she needed to stop the bleeding as fast as she could to continue the mission, she took her time to properly care for him. While she was doing that, he took some shampoo with his free hand and started washing her hair.

‘Stop moving, Alexander! It doesn’t hurt that much!’

They could do that all day. After some time, she rinsed and stepped out of the bathroom to let him shower. She didn’t have a fresh set of clothes, so it was either the towel or nothing at all. She opted for the latter. In the end, it was not a strange situation for both of them, and they were both too tired to even think about that. Room service had also arrived at some point, so after Alexander came out of the bathroom, they devoured the small meal in seconds. He also didn’t have any clean clothes, aside from the ones that Lincoln gave him.

‘Hey, I wanted to tell you that I-‘

‘Alexander, please, not right now; I just want to sleep and not think for a few hours.’

‘Ok… let’s sleep then. I just wanted to say thank you.’

He knew it was risky, but he had to do it. He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and then lay down on his side of the bed. She lay down as well. Even with her strong desire to fall asleep, she was left too stunned to do anything else. She turned to look at him. Alexandria was just so tired of feeling things. He could be a perfect liar (unlike Whistler), or maybe it was real. Sona did change people: Michael had killed someone, T-Bag had learned some Spanish, Bellick was this helpless man and Alexander, well, he said he was in love with her.

‘Fuck it.’

She got closer to him, placing her arm around him and her head on his chest. He immediately surrounded her with his arms. That’s the only way she was able to relax. She was so profoundly asleep that she didn’t notice when he woke up in the middle of the night to answer the room’s phone.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Dime tu qué puedo hacer

No me quieres ya

Y siempre estaré

Llorando por tu amor.”

The following two days were really calm. Well, as calm as they could be for two fugitives. They only left the hotel to buy some clothes and to breathe some fresh air. They knew they were in the eye of the storm, but in the meantime, they could only enjoy a few moments of tranquillity. That was until Alexander told her they had to go to a local bar to talk with someone. He had gotten into the habit of holding her hand every time they walked, and if she was honest, it felt right. She had a vague idea of who the winner of her internal battle would be. He would also kiss her hand when she had to let her go to use his hand, like at the moment to open the bar’s door. And if you are asking, no, they hadn’t kissed or had sex since the escape. It was just those small interactions.

They were sitting in the bar drinking a mojito when the door opened once again. She turned to see none other than James Whistler at the door. He approached the barman, offering him a hundred-dollar bill to leave them alone. Alexandria’s face expressed pure confusion, and she slowly let go of Alexander’s hand.

‘You both in?’

‘She needs to be able to handle everything.’ Alexander said, pointing at Gretchen, who was standing outside. ‘Because if she has done everything you think she has, Sara…She’s the weak link. And we will find her. And then Scofield will find you and me. And we are not paying for your mess.’

‘Are you in or are you out?’

‘I’m in.’

‘Jones?’

‘He’ll meet you outside.’

‘I need an answer.’

‘GO OUTSIDE!’

Whistler stood from his seat and stepped outside of the bar. Gretchen was with him. She turned to face Alexander.

‘Working with them?’

‘Brie, let me-‘

‘Working with the Company! With the same people that broke Cameron’s leg?! With the same people that made our lives so miserable?!’

‘Brie, he called me the other night. He has a plan to take them down.’

‘I thought that after everything we’ve been through… that we would have nothing to do with those people.’

‘Brie… it’s just one more mission… this time for good. They need to be stopped. We’ll pretend to work for them for a while, and then, when Whistler has everything ready, well…’

‘What are they offering you? Your old job? A new house for you and Pam?’ She was on the verge of crying.

‘Brie, you know it’s not like that. They… they have done many wrong things; I just want to do something about it! For Cameron, for you, for me… and I need you here with me.’

‘You cannot go for more than two days without lying. How can you even trust that’ll happen? How can you know that you won’t become a pawn in their game?’

‘I’m not lying! And… I don’t know, but don’t you want to have revenge for everything they have done to us?’

‘I should have gone away when I had the chance. I don’t seek revenge anymore; I’m so sick and tired of this life, Alexander.’

‘If you don’t come with us… they’ll find you, and they’ll kill you. You know too much. You are more safe pretending you are on their side.’

‘If they kill me today or tomorrow… I’ll die happy knowing I never had to do with those horrible people.’

‘Brie… please, I’m begging you. Come with me; I cannot do this without you. I’ll never forgive myself if you get killed because of this… please Brie, you need to come with me because I love-‘

‘Don’t say it! Don’t you dare say it.’ She was indeed crying. He tried to touch her, but she moved away and stood up. After a few seconds, she wiped her tears and turned to look at him one last time. ‘It seems like you have already decided for yourself. In that case, it’s been an honor serving you, sir. Thank you for these six years. I resign from your service immediately.’

‘Brie…’

But she had already crossed the door. She made sure to hit Whistler in the face before leaving. A few moments later, Alexander left the bar and got in the car with Gretchen and Whistler. She didn’t know where to go; she didn’t want to go back to the hotel; the bed still smelled like him. She found herself at the beach, of all places. She sat down and cried for what it felt like hours. Everything was over, and she was alone, like in the beginning. There’ll no longer be Mahone and Jones. She wanted to tear up her plaque and throw it into the ocean, but she remembered she gave it to him. So that was it. It was for the better. The hourglass was no longer moving. It was broken. The prisoners were no longer inside, and the sand was spread everywhere, combining itself with the one in that Panamanian beach.

“Tu amor se llevó

Todo mi corazón

Y quedo llorando.”

Chapter Text

"If the sun should tumble from the skies"

He couldn’t bear looking at himself. The rear-view mirror showed him the picture of a pathetic man. He used to be the head of many FBI operations, and now he was dressed as a limousine driver for Gretchen and Whistler, and his only role was driving them to the location and helping them escape. Oh, the irony. He knew Michael was going to be there: how he tracked them from Panama all the way to Los Angeles was a mystery, but for the six months they had been on the run, he had always felt Michael’s presence nearby. It was painfully obvious why he was doing all that. It was all because of Sara and avenging her. And if he knew him as well as he thought, Scofield would be able to destroy the Company with his bare hands because of what it did to his girlfriend.

Six freaking months of planning. As soon as they left Panama, they told him the plan: apparently, the most valuable possession the Company had was something they liked to call Scylla, some card that contained all their most secretive information. Gretchen needed to get that card to a person they liked to call “the General,” one of the Company's most important (if not the most important) men. He trusted her with that task. If someone non-authorized were to have Scylla in their hands, they would have absolute power over the Company and maybe even the United States. He hoped that he and Whistler would become those non-authorized people that afternoon.

Six freaking months of planning. Scofield would have figured it out in less time. They only spent a month and a half in Sona, the worst prison in the world, probably, and they were out in a few weeks. It was insane. He was sure Michael would be able to get Scylla if he wanted to, and actually, the Company had eyes on Michael and was trying to lure him into working for them, just like his father did. Despite working in government for several years, he had never seen such a devoted member like Gretchen: that woman had an extreme loyalty to the Company. She was willing to die for it if necessary. He wondered how bad it would be when Whistler betrayed her, especially considering that they had spent every day or so in the hotel room next to him having not-so-discreet sex.

Six freaking months of planning. He had missed Cameron’s birthday. He was able to call him on the day of the party to tell him how sorry he was. He answered in an unbothered, always-understanding tone. He asked him why he hadn’t sent “Miss Brie” as he always did. That made his heart ache more than he ever imagined, as he realized that Brie had actually seen Cameron more in the past year than him; he had sent her when Cameron’s accident happened, but also when the school needed his signature, when he had a doctor’s appointment and Pam was not available, when he had to send him money or presents… Brie was always there. And Cameron loved her.

Six freaking months of planning. Six freaking months of not knowing anything about her. He didn’t know if she was still in Panama or somewhere else. He didn’t know if she was still alive. Most of the time, he would find himself grabbing the metal plaque hanging around his neck; he would only find a little bit of comfort like that. Gretchen told him he couldn't call or contact anybody until they had attended that gala (or gotten that Scylla card, depending on which side you were); she just made that exception for Cameron.

He knew from the beginning that he would regret that decision to work with Whistler. It was a complicated situation: on the one hand, he wanted to ditch everyone and live a calm life for the first time in his life; hell, he even was ready to do jail time if that was the case (not in Sona, though). On the other hand, the Company would never leave him and his loved ones alone. He had betrayed them by betraying Kim and failing to kill the Fox River’s Eight, so it was a matter of time for their revenge. That thing needed to be stopped, and he felt it was his responsibility to fix what he started.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

‘If you have no information about Sara, I am not interested.’

Michael was not an easy person to talk to. And he had every right not to trust Alexander or Whistler. But they needed him. Gretchen had disappeared that morning, and maybe it was because of them. The Scylla card they got at the gala was not just for the General. Whistler made a copy and discretely replaced the original with the one Gretchen stole from its original owner. They were waiting for the right time to give it to a guy named Don Self, a man working with Homeland Security who was also after the Company.

Turns out that Whistler was not as stupid as it seemed. He was not trying to take down the Company on his own; instead, he was working as a “freelancer” for a government department that had been trying to destroy the Company for five years. All their hopes were on that card, but that wasn’t all. Scylla’s information was encrypted, so they needed a special device located in the Company’s headquarters to reveal all the information. And well, there was just one person who could escape two of the most secure prisons in the world.

But he was not buying it. At some point during the gala, Gretchen had told Michael that Sara was alive, that she hadn’t killed her in Panama, and that she managed to escape. The severed head that Lincoln received was another woman. He could feel Michael hanging into those words, not even knowing for sure if they were true. But he knew that feeling of holding into something to keep your sanity. That’s how he survived the six months with Gretchen and Whistler and his “recovery.” They had hired a “doctor” to help him with his addiction, and even though the treatment for withdrawal was questionable (he didn’t want to talk about it), it had worked.

He and Whistler were in an alley, trying to convince Michael to join them, when the sound of gunshots made all of them turn around. There was no other person or gun in sight, but bullets were flying around. Michael escaped immediately, and he managed to hide partially before climbing a fence and running as fast as he could; in the corner of his eye, he could see Whistler lying on the ground. Officially, his life as a fugitive had begun.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The car reunions were uncomfortable, but he couldn’t risk leaks. Scylla was extremely important, and the new person in charge needed to be of his entire trust. The only problem is that there is no such thing as “entire trust.” That’s why James Whistler and Gretchen Morgan had to be executed the way they were. It was such a shame; she used to be an excellent asset, and he was just garbage.

After verifying that the card recovered from Whistler’s body was the original and not a copy, he gave it to his new “protector.” He needed someone to keep an eye on him, but he had specialized people for that, like the gentleman sitting across from him.

‘It’s time to clean up now. Thoroughly. Everyone who was close to Whistler, Scofield, Mahone, and Burrows.’

‘Burrows is still in Panama.’

‘You can start with Mahone and then go to Panama. Scofield needs to be the last one. Clean up. That’s the order. You know what to do. Everyone around them go.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

With Whistler dead and Michael not wanting to cooperate, he had nowhere to go. He was still on the run and couldn’t risk being seen around, so he needed to decide on one place.

Durango, Colorado.

It was a 12-hour drive from Los Angeles to there. It had been a long time since he had been there, and it was unbelievably tiring. But there was no other option. He couldn’t help but feel an uneasy sensation in the chest. The Alexander of some months ago would be going at 200 miles per hour just wanting to be there. He had imagined that scenario so many times: he would hold Pam in his arms, and they would kiss, and she’d magically forget everything that happened. He would pick up Cameron from school and tell him that they would live together again happily ever after. Now, he wasn’t even sure Pam would let him stay in her house.

He chose Colorado to be close to his son. He owed him that. And Pam… well, maybe they could go out, talk, and maybe find some common ground again. The thought of not getting back together didn’t sound as horrible as it once seemed. He just wanted to be a good parent, watch little Cam grow, and be present. And he could do that, married or not to Pam. He still had conflicting thoughts about that; he was raised differently and more painfully, but it was just a matter of getting used to his new reality.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi, Pam.’

‘Where… where are you?’

‘In the middle of it, as usual.’

‘Panama still?’

‘No, no.’

‘How are you?’

‘I’m good… and you two?’

‘We are fine.’

‘I have to tell you, Pam, you know. I had a plan for all of us to be together, and… I’m not gonna stop working on being there for Cam. That’s all I want.’

‘Why do you need a plan if you want to be with someone? You just be with them.’

‘I know it is that simple… but you know things with me are never simple... tell Cameron he’ll have a surprise today.’

‘Are… are you coming? Alex… I … you… I’m going out tonight… with someone…’

‘Yes and… that’s… that’s fine. I just want to see Cam. I promise.’

‘Okay… I guess I’ll wait for you, and I’ll cancel with the nanny.’

‘Sounds good. I’ll see you soon, Pam.’

He hung up immediately. He should’ve guessed something like that was happening, but still, it hurt a little. In the end, she had been his wife for so long, and he had turned the world upside down on many occasions just to get back to her. Letting out a big sigh, he dialed out the next number.

‘Hey… it’s me again. I was just wondering how are you. Brie, I know you are probably mad at me, and I don’t blame you… but… I just wanted to know that you are okay. It’s been 6 months… I… I knew I was pretty useless without you, but now I am having a hard time doing anything because you are such a huge part of my life… you and Cam are my world, and… I’m missing a part of my world. As you can see, I am not dealing with this well, and I hate saying this to you, but honestly I just look for any excuse to talk to you. Please take care, wherever you are. I love you.’

The new reality also involved letting Brie go. He had done enough damage, and if he loved her that much, he had to understand that. He wanted to hear her voice again, even if it was to insult him. He had lied before: he would often sneak every now and then to try to call her, but there was never an answer. He may have sent over 100 messages. Her voicemail should have been full by this time, but it wasn’t. So she was alive and listening to his messages, or at least that’s what he wanted to think.

He was a mess. He just needed to get to Colorado.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He felt underwater, but it wasn’t the pills this time. He still couldn’t grasp what happened in the past 24 hours. He had to go to that damn gas station. He took an extra thirty minutes. And then he got into that quite familiar street… and then… and then…

Next, he knew he was in a Colorado jail. Flash forward to a tedious conversation with Don Self and another road trip to Chicago. The twenty hours felt like a nightmare, and on more than one occasion, he wished he could open the van’s car and just jump… Self’s office was awfully similar to his former office, and it took all the strength he had left in his body not to cry in front of Scofield, Burrows, Sucre, and Bellick.

While everybody was hugging each other and telling the tale of how T-Bag had taken control of Sona and burned it to ashes (and that he also had Whistler’s book), he was staring at the window. He could feel Burrow’s hateful stare burning holes in his back, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything at all. The only thing that made him react slightly was the confirmation that Sara Tancredi was alive. He knew it was true because of how Michael’s eyes sparkled when he mentioned her name. Some people were so lucky.

Self had reunited a group of delinquents and professional prison breakers to finish what Whistler and him started: stealing Scylla and taking down the Company. They were going to fly to LA under the excuse of bringing all of them to a high-security prison. In reality, they would all stay in an abandoned warehouse and plan how to get Scylla and break into the Company’s facilities. In return, they would all be granted freedom, absolution for their crimes, and some monetary compensation. It seemed like an attractive offer, but the risk of dying was still too high. He signed immediately, but the others were still hesitant: Sucre had just become a father, Lincoln had left his son and girlfriend in Panama, Scofield and Sara had just found each other, and Bellick had survived Sona. Alexander had nothing to lose.

As soon as they landed, they were given two pieces of news: they had to wear an electronic ankle monitor at all times and would be joined by two other people. Michael didn’t like the idea of two strangers joining his team, but Self quickly told him that it was not Michael’s team; it was his, and he was in charge. He remembered now why he hated Self.

The warehouse was big, equipped with beds, showers, food, and all the items they might need. It was also repulsive and had way too many gunshot impacts in the windows and walls for his liking. Inside, there was just one person.

‘Hey! Self! I need to talk with you, man. I want to add protection to my deal. Even if you don't pay me that much, I don’t care.’

‘This is Roland; he’s also serving some time and will be helping with the technological part. Roland, I think you are exaggerating.’

‘I am not, man! That chick is crazy! And scary! I am afraid to go to sleep every night! I'll tell you! All day, she’s firing that gun-‘

‘It’s a salvo gun, Roland.’

‘Or punching that bag, it’s insane! She only takes orders from you!’

At that moment, the sound of gunshots alerted everyone, but Self lay down on the ground. Self let out a big sigh and went outside, where the sound was coming from. A couple of minutes later, he came back in.

‘So sorry about that; see, I need my geniuses team and my brute force team in their best shape, and that’s why- come on! I don’t have all day! I think you actually know each other.’

From the back door of that abandoned warehouse, a silhouette appeared, all dressed in black. The person—a woman, threw said gun to the floor and slowly approached where everyone was standing. Her posture was straight and immovable, her hands clasped behind her back, ready for action at any moment. Her hair was tied in a tight bun at the base of her neck. She was missing her shades. He could distinguish her anywhere. A small light suddenly appeared in his ocean of despair, just to be taken away in seconds.

‘Oh no.’

Chapter Text

"If the sea should suddenly run dry"

It was as if someone had reprogrammed her. Like a fucking... robot. She was standing next to Self, immobile and inexpressive, staring at nothing. There was no trace of the shine he could always find in her eyes. The only time she reacted was when that guy Roland started saying stupid things about her murdering everyone in their sleep, and she threw a knife really close to his face that landed on the wall next to him. Suddenly, the broken windows and gunshot marks on the walls made sense.

Before he could approach her, Self started talking about the card once again and that they needed to find the person who had it. It took him a couple of seconds to realize that everyone was expecting him to say something; after all, he was the one who knew Whistler's plan.

'Whistler... he...' He was trying. He was really trying. But everything that had happened to him and also the shock of seeing Brie for the first time in months made it difficult to connect sentences. He wished she would say to him, "get it together." He wished she would say anything at all. 'Whistler's assignment was to drop off this... this data card, Scylla to a Company executive, someone he referred to as the cardholder. Now, I didn't see who he was, but I got a look at his driver.'

'His driver? You want to sketch this guy's face and match it up to 10 million people in LA? Well that's just great.' Lincoln said, not trying to hide his sarcasm.

'I saw more than just the guy's face. All the drivers were hanging around, but this guy, he was standing by himself, legs apart, hands behind his back at rest...' Silence. He was really trying, but his mind was foggy, and his words were not just enough; who knew that pain could make you feel so helpless? So small... a ghost of your former self... so...

'He's former military.' He never imagined that it would be her who would catch him. But yet again, Alexandria had always caught him. He took a deep breath before continuing.

'His car rides a little lower than the rest of them.'

'Bulletproof siding.'

'His suit... his suit, you don't buy a suit like that on a cop's salary or pulling weekend gigs as a driver.'

'Full-time, highly paid. Run tax records.' She said, turning to see Ronald.

'55 to 65-year-old white males in LA drawing a military pension.'

'And taking six figures from a private security company.'

'Narrow from 10 million to about 50. I can pick out the guy from there.'

Everyone kept silent, digesting not only the information but also the spectacle of "mind reading" they had watched. Self was the one to break the silence: ' OK... then... you two work well together. I like that. See, there are two who are thinking. Let's get everyone to work, Michael. Good luck to all of us.' When Self made his way out of the warehouse, Lincoln quickly approached where Mahone was standing.

'You know, when this is all done, you and me, we're gonna settle up.' He did it more to get a reaction from Alexandria, but she didn't even move; she was at rest and kept staring at nothing like before. Lincoln didn't know who he hated more from the freak show duo.

'All right, obviously, there's a lot of history in this room. That's a given. But if we're gonna pull this off, it's gonna take all of us. We got to work together. So if anyone has a problem, get it out now. You want to clear the air with someone, now's the time.' Michael's words were met with pure silence. Of course, no one was going to speak. The wounds were too fresh.

Everybody started to move around to install wherever a bed was available and begin the plan. The only noise around was Roland typing on his keyboard, getting information about the driver. Alexander knew there was just one person he needed to talk to. He started to follow her, keeping some distance after noticing another knife hanging around her waist.

'Brie, ' he said in barely a whisper. Can we talk?' She kept walking, heading toward the entrance. 'Brie... can we talk?' He wanted to raise his voice, but he didn't want people listening to their conversation. 'Brie... can we talk, please?' She stopped on her tracks, and he thought he finally understood until he noticed who she stopped next to.

'Bellick. You are alive. That's good.'

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Roland was annoying, but he was also a genius. He managed to create a device able to copy information from almost anything: credit cards, cell phones, computers, and, of course, the Scylla card. The plan was simple: get close to wherever the card was, just enough so that Roland's device could start copying (according to him, he just needed 2 or 3 minutes), and then go. The complicated part was everything else. The place where the cardholder lived was a fortress with no direct neighbors, a complex security system, plus a ridiculous amount of bodyguards.

The thing Alexander had noticed about Michael was that he relied on many things to make his plans work. When he broke his brother out of prison, it was the same thing, except he had months of planning and covered every single step almost too well. When he had to improvise, there were more loose ends, whether it was Panama's sun or the maid that helped around that house. The idea was to place Roland's device inside the maid's purse and create a distraction so that she would go to every room enough time for the device to catch the signal; then, they would fake stealing the purse and get it back. So simple and yet so complicated.

He was the one in charge of "going after" Bellick at the bus station, being the maid's "hero," and recovering her purse. He was so far away from being an actual hero. He tried his best to concentrate, but his mind was all over the place. Brie was not part of the operation; she stayed back at the warehouse and that made him feel so empty. It was ALWAYS Jones and Mahone. They came in one package for all missions. He felt their connection when she was able to say what was on his mind; she turned on that light of hope, maybe unwillingly, but she did. He missed her as a partner, he missed her as a person, he missed her as his Brie, he missed her so much.

He almost missed his cue. Bellick started running, and he went after him a few seconds later. He actually had to slow his pace not to catch him that soon. They stopped a few blocks away and looked for the device. See, that's why he hated Michael's trust in other people. There was nothing in that purse.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

There was someone else in that warehouse who was not doing well as well. Alexandria could take a wild guess of everything Sara had to endure during her time in Panama. After all, she was an expert on noticing signs of trauma. She had seen some scars on her shoulders, she was easily scared by any noise, and she could hear her pacing around at night. Even with her own problems, she could see the ticking bomb that was about to explode inside Sara and Michael's helplessness about it. She couldn't blame him; if you hadn't experienced the agonizing sensation of physical torture, it was difficult to give reassurance to someone who did.

'Hey, come here.'

'Are you talking to me?'

'Yes. Come here.'

Sara was very confused, and to be honest, Alexandria as well. They hadn't had a conversation before, and probably she associated her with Alexander and that time he held her at gunpoint. Maybe what had happened to Alexandria in the past months (and all her life, let's be honest) had sickened her enough not to want anyone else going through the same thing. They were outside, next to some debris and junk.

'Here.' Alexandria lent her a baseball bat.

'What?'

'Take it and smash that car.'

'Why?'

'Come on, Tancredi, you need to take that out before it consumes you.'

'You don't even know...'

'I'm not telling you my sad story, but I understand what you went through, believe it or not. I'm just offering a way to take it out, at least momentarily. Now take the bat.'

But she wasn't taking it. Alexandria grabbed the bat with both hands, and letting out a loud scream, she smashed the old car in front of them. She did it again and again and again until the car hood was permanently deformed. A few seconds later, Sara took the bat and began hitting another part of the car with even more strength and anger than Alexandria. She could see the rest of the men staring through the window, but she didn't care. With every scream and hit, she could see that Sara was expressing all the repressed feelings that did not help her be at peace. She let her continue with her thing while she put on her gloves and started her boxing training with the punching bag. After a while, Sara placed the bat on the floor, bathed in sweat, and approached Alexandria.

'Can I try that one?'

'Sure.'

They continued to break stuff around for the next hour, Alexandria with the baseball bat and Sara with a pipe she found nearby. Sara didn't say anything else to Alexandria, but Alexandria knew that she felt somewhat better. When she went back inside, Michael just nodded at her. That night, Sara had a dreamless night and didn't wake up until the following day.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

'We have to break into the house.'

'Michael, that's impossible. You saw that place, it's a fortress.' Sucre said.

'If the Company finds out someone was after that card, we are done.' Lincoln said.

'What do you mean "done"? What does that mean? Does that mean we're gonna go back to prison? Are they gonna kill us? What the hell does that mean?!'

'Shut up, Bellick!' Alexandria said. 'What's your plan?'

'I want all the information regarding alarms, security systems, who will arrive and when, blueprints, and all of that. I need all of you so I can figure it out.'

They worked for 10 hours straight. The printing machine never stopped working. At different points, all of them made suggestions to Michael, but he kept disregarding them. As annoying as that was, there was no other option: they had to go inside.

'Alex and I will wait on the other side; Alexandria, Sucre, and Linc, you activate the house's alarm across the street. We'll take advantage of the bodyguards being distracted to break in.'

'Team Sona outsiders striking again.' Sucre, in a big mistake, tried to high-five Alexandria.

'We were never a team.' Alexandria looked at Lincoln with so much hate in her eyes that Sucre had to take a step back.

'Okay... moving on. We need to be quick. We may only have 5 minutes in total.'

'Hold on. You two will never make it alive if you try to escape through the same place. When you get the device, jump the fence that leads you to the garden. The wall with vegetation leads to the street, and it is your best option.' Alexandria said, tracing the route in the blueprints.

'That wall is gigantic, you fucking genius; they won't be able to climb it on time.'

'That's why you are driving back, Burrows. I'll be on top of that wall to help you climb.'

'Sounds like a plan.'

It wasn't that dark when they arrived, but Alexandria and Mahone were all dressed in black, just in case. It was interesting to see how divided they were as a group and how forced Self's group seemed; that's what happens when you reunite a bunch of people who have so many unresolved conflicts. When the clock read 8 PM, the plan started. Lincoln, Sucre, and Alexandria went to the house across the street and activated the alarm system. Immediately, the bodyguards began moving toward the sound, trying to see if someone was breaking in. She saw the silhouettes of Alexander and Michael entering the house, which gave her the cue to start climbing the wall.

She loved climbing, and that wall was indeed gigantic, but she didn't care—she climbed it in seconds. Instead of taking a second to breathe from her favorite position, she grabbed her binoculars and tried to see inside the house. Lincoln was already there with the car, and Sucre was guarding the surroundings. It was just a matter of waiting.

She had noticed that there was something wrong with him. Even with her multiple attempts to avoid him, she could see something had happened. He was slower than usual, absent-minded, and deconcentrated. She was talking about Alexander Mahone, who, even in the adversity, used to be able to stand in front of a camera and give press conferences. But this time, she would not let her stupid heart take control. As a matter of fact, she had taken it out of her body and placed it in a bottle that was probably in the middle of the ocean.

Feeling things had only caused her trouble, so she turned that switch off and moved on. She was not that weak bitch crying her heart out on that Panamanian beach; she was a soldier, a well-oiled machine (a robot or fucking Terminator, as Pam would say), and the type of person that Self needed for this mission. The person she should always have been if it weren't for Alexander and his stupid way of giving her back her humanity. She had been training inside that warehouse for the past month: with every punch, with every lap, with every gun trick, she was trying to forget the things that happened after Sona and her life in general. She needed to be the best soldier so that they could get Scylla and she could get her new life.

She was burying her past in her own backyard, and she didn't care who she hurt or damaged in the process. Nobody was going to take away her only chance of happiness. And still, he was not himself. She hated that she knew him, that she still could read him, that a part of her cared about him. Just like Michael calculated, five minutes after the neighbor's alarm went off, she saw both men running toward her hiding spot.

Alexander couldn't believe they had found the device and that they would make it out of the house alive. He kept running with all his might, holding to that small machine that would grant him everything he wanted. Well, almost everything. As they approached the wall, he noticed the ropes: one was made for climbing, and the other was placed in a way that the person on top would pull to make the other go. She was the only one who knew that he didn't like heights or climbing.

Immediately, he grabbed the latter and felt Brie pull him up. Michael started climbing as well. They were seconds away from getting out safely. Michael reached the top first and he saw Brie's silhouette partially hidden in the vegetation, helping him get to the other side. When it was his turn, she grabbed him and basically carried him to the top of the wall. She clearly had been training. He felt something when he grabbed her wrists, and, this time, it wasn't just the fireworks. It was the unmistakable texture of a scar.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It turns out they had chanted victory too soon. The card was useless on its own: Scylla is a six-headed monster in the Odyssey that famously devoured six of Odysseus' men. True to the story, Scylla was created in a way that it was only possible to use if six cards were used simultaneously. They were screwed. It was an impossible task to find the other five cards, plus entering the Company's headquarters. Nobody knew what to do; some were considering quitting and facing the necessary jail time, others were trying to figure out a plan to escape, and others, like Michael, were actually considering the possibility of getting all the cards. Meanwhile, Alexander had other priorities.

'Can we talk?' She was outside, boxing as always.

'I have nothing to talk with you.'

'Where were you, Brie?'

'None of your business.'

'I thought I'd never see you again... you didn't answer my calls, I was worried.'

'I was not able to do so, but I heard all of your pathetic voicemails if that's what you wanted to know.'

'I understand that's what I deserve, but-'

'You deserve fucking nothing! Not everything is about you! I couldn't answer because when you are behind bars, it is quite difficult, and more so when you are in a nuts house!' Alexandria managed to break the punching bag again, which fell to the floor as her last word escaped from her mouth.

'What? When?'

'After you left, I contacted Alphonso and Luis, and they told me I could stay with them in Colombia, and they gave me directions to get there. But some people recognized me from the American news and sold me to the authorities. They immediately flew me back to Chicago and sent me to the Dwight Correctional Center.'

'Maximum security...'

'But before we could get there, I asked them to let me go pee, and I... I sliced my wrists open.'

'Brie...'

'Unfortunately for me, they found me and then sent me to the Psych Ward instead. Everything there was blurry, I guess because of the drugs they gave me. But in the lucid moments that I had, the guards found my phone, and they would make fun of me and play those fucking messages to see me have another crisis. Self found me and made me part of his team because he wanted "Jones the assassin" on top of her game.'

'Brie...'

'And no, if you think I wanted to deal with the Company once again, you are fucking wrong. But I need my charges to be dissolved and the money to start a new life.'

'Sounds like a plan...' There was an uncomfortable silence, something that never had happened before. He had to take all the courage he had left to continue talking to her. 'I am not in a position to ask you this, but... I need your help, Brie.'

'Fuck you, Alexander.' She started to walk back to the warehouse.

'They killed Cameron... someone from the Company went to Pam's house, and they killed him in front of her... two shots... they killed him, Brie... they killed my boy.' Alexandria stopped in her tracks but didn't turn around; she wasn't moving. 'And I... I need to find out who did it and do... something about it. Self permitted me to use his resources as long as I did my part of the job, but... I am lost. Whenever I want to start planning something... I... I cannot think straight. Everyone inside there hates me, and I bet you too... but you knew Cam, he... he loved you so much, and I just... Brie, I need your help to find that son of a bitch.'

Slowly, Alexandria turned around. She still had that stoic look, but Alexander immediately noticed something had changed. She stared at him for a few minutes, probably deciding what to do.

'You need to call Pam and ask her to describe the person. Roland can help you get the pictures, if he doesn't, you tell me. Then you'll go with the options with her, and when she identifies someone, we'll go from there.'

'Okay... okay... that's good.'

'Alexander, listen to me. I will help you just for the love I also felt for Cameron. But once his killer is dead and this Scylla thing is over, I am going to take my money and go so far away that not even you will find me. And you will not look for me or try to contact me, ok? I am so sick of being in your life.'

The thought of losing her as well made his chest hurt. But if that was the price, he was going to take it. One last mission together in memory of Cameron. He nodded shyly, and both made their way back to the warehouse, unaware that Burrows had listened to all their conversation.

Chapter Text

"If it seems that everything is lost"

She wanted to believe him. At the same time, she wanted to think it was a lie. If he created the story of someone murdering Cameron, she'd be convinced that he was a heartless and manipulative monster, but at least Cameron would be alive. Self had given them special phones to communicate with each other, but that meant that they couldn't reach people from the outside. There was a phone booth a few blocks away, but if there was anyone Self kept a constant eye on with the ankle monitor, it was her. He was afraid she would run away, so if there was any unauthorized movement, he would notice and immediately call her or even go there.

'I need a favor.'

Don't get her wrong, she didn't trust Sara. But she was the only person there that she didn't hate that much and was intelligent. She skipped breakfast that morning because her face was still red from last night. The possibility of Cameron being dead tormented her so much that for a significant portion of the night, her tears didn't stop. She knew Alexander. She knew him so well to notice that something was also torturing him, and she refused to believe that was the reason.

'Okay... what do you need?'

'Self is constantly behind my back, and I cannot go out unless he authorizes. I need to make a phone call so, you'll go to the phone booth, and then I'll call you, and then you will dial the number that I'll give you, and you'll leave for about ten minutes. Then you go back for your phone and head back.'

'That's awfully tangled.'

'Look, if you don't want to do it, it's fine. I'll ask Sucre or Bellick. I was just counting on you not to mess up.'

'Okay, fine... I'll go.'

A few minutes later, Sara dialed Pam's number. The anticipation was killing her, and her heart felt heavier every time she was sent to voicemail. She couldn't accept it—she just couldn't.

'Hey, this is my last quarter. Do you want to try again?'

'No. I have a different number if you don't mind.'

She would destroy the old car outside if she was sent to voice mail once again. A few seconds later, someone finally picked up.

'Felicia.'

'Hello, Lang. Long time not talking to you.'

'J-Jones? Oh my God.'

'Don't hang up.'

'Where are you? Are you with, Alex?'

'Somewhere in LA. And something like that... he needs the report of... well you know.'

'I'm so sorry about what happened with Cameron... but I cannot just reach the residential agency in Durango and ask for an autopsy report.'

'It's very simple, Lang. I've done that several times.'

'Things have changed around here since he... well, since you two... I can't do that, Jones.'

'Then do it for Alexander. I know that you really really like him, Lang. He'd be... grateful.' Alexandria felt a mixture of disgust and annoyance after those words.

'I'll see what I can do. What was Cameron's date of birth?'

'January, 14th, 2000. Be discreet.'

After Lang hung up, she couldn't hold it anymore. She tried to muffle her sobs with her jacket, but it was useless. Cameron was dead. That little boy was horribly murdered in front of his mother. She had sworn to protect him and look after his happiness, but she had failed miserably. Alexandria and Cameron always had a special connection, maybe related to how he came into this world. He was her constant reminder that goodness existed. It was just not fair.

'Hey, they hung up... are you ok?' Sara sounded genuinely concerned and also confused.

'Did you hear any of this conversation?'

'No... I went away as you told me to.'

'Okay... okay... thank you, Sara.'

'No problem... are you okay?'

'Just come back before Self notices it.'

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Alexander had to give it to Michael, the kid was not giving up. When Roland's device was inside the cardholder's house, it picked up some information from a computer, including some e-mails. One included an encrypted message about a meeting for Scylla later that day. The missing part was where the meeting was going to be. After some shenanigans that included them hacking an elaborate system to obtain the rest of the e-mails, almost dying in the process, and Self nearly ruining it because he thought they were escaping, they were left with just two additional e-mails that were received almost at the same time as the one for the meeting: an ad for erectile dysfunction pills and an invitation to join some stargazers' club.

'You know, constellations can be used to track points on Earth.' Michael carefully traced the specific constellation shown in the ad.

'There's a website that lets you enter the coordinates of star patterns, and, depending on the date, it'll pick a corresponding location on Earth.' Alexander took the laptop from Roland's lap and began typing the website name, exchanging glances with Alexandria.

'And you know this because?' Michael and the rest got closer to the screen.

'Because my son and my ex and I used to go on this site. He would look up at the sky and know where I was.' Now, Alexander was exclusively looking at Alexandria. No one would ever know this, but she was the one who told him about that website.

'That's not it. That constellation's over Antarctica... it's impossible if the meeting is today at 4 PM.' Sara's disappointed face was replicated by everyone.

'So, I almost died for nothing. That's good to know.' Roland raised his voice. 'And you know? Anyone who gives up their life for this crap is a sucker!'

It took only one second. The fury accumulated in Alexander was exorbitant. He grabbed Roland by the neck and slammed him into the table. He wanted to destroy him and make him feel all the pain he was feeling.

'Just say it. Say about the people who died. Say it. Say it!'

'Alexander! Alexander!'

Alexandria didn't want to become physical with him. But it wasn't convenient that he killed Roland. She was about to step in and try to calm him, but in a turn of events, Lincoln decided to act. Slowly, Alexander took his hands off Roland's neck and stepped outside. Burrows tried to make him come back, but Alexandria gave him a look indicating to give him some space.

'Guys...' Michael's tone was unbelievably cold. 'Guys we need to go.'

'What do you mean, Michael?' Sara tried to read the text message he had just received.

'Self is canceling the mission; we are done, they are coming for us!'

Alexander was not there to receive the message. But he was there to notice Sara, Michael, Lincoln, and Brie running outside the warehouse at full speed. He just needed to exchange a glance with Brie to know he also needed to start running. He quickly noticed Self's car chasing them and connected the dots. The group reunited under a tunnel to block the signal from the ankle monitors, but it was a temporary solution: sooner or later, they would all have handcuffs and would be going back to prison. Alexandria was trying to catch her breath when she saw Alexander on the verge of tears. She knew what was going on inside his head. With the mission canceled, he would never have the chance to avenge his son. They couldn't lose now; they just couldn't...

'Follow me.' Michael started to run again.

'Michael, what are we doing?' Lincoln was trying to catch up with him.

'I figured it out. I know where they are reuniting, but we need to hurry. If we show Self we have a lead, he might change his mind.'

Alexander turned to look at her. With a simple nod, they both returned to the race against time for their freedom. Michael guided them to an Industrial Plant near the beach; the reunion would start in fifteen minutes, but before they even got the chance to investigate, Self's car and some other agents arrived, and the chase began again. They didn't plan to escape together, but when your way of thinking is so similar, you can find yourself running in the same direction at the same pace. In the distance, some faint gunshots could be heard, and also people running everywhere.

Alexander noticed the industrial containers, the lamp posts, and some other places to hide, but they were either too tall or too dangerous. From a distance, he noticed Sara and Lincoln getting arrested. When he turned around, all his hopes were gone: Brie had disappeared. He stopped to look for her, but there was no trace of which direction she had taken. With a knot in his throat, he restarted his pace until he felt something hitting his back.

'Come on! I cannot lift you! You need to help me.' Brie's left boot was on the ground next to him. She had climbed a container in seconds and offered her hand to help him go up. He picked up the boot and with a big jump, he grabbed her hand and climbed with her. They were lying down, trying not to make any noise. A few seconds later, Self and his men passed right through them.

'What do we do now?' They were lying really close to each other, but she decided to whisper just in case.

'We wait... Thank you.'

'Don't thank me... are you feeling ok? You don't like heights.'

'I'm not hating them right now...'

Time passed. Minutes, maybe hours... and they remained there. Immobile, just like in their old missions. They were facing each other but without looking into the other's eyes. Blue and green dancing around so as not to find each other. Until it was inevitable, he could bet he noticed some blush in her cheeks, but maybe it was just California's sun. A few moments later, Michael's voice began calling their names.

'Alex! Jones! It's okay. I talked to Self... and I was able to find out who the cardholders are. The mission continues... and I know who the next person is... We will find her tomorrow at something called "Eagles and Angels"... and I bet you know what that means.'

They sat up simultaneously; Michael was a few feet from the correct container. 'It's a gala that is made to honor those cops who died on the field... Michael, what happened?'

'Oh, you are there. Get down; I'll explain everything at the warehouse with the rest.'

Before jumping from the container, Alexander kneeled down, grabbing the boot and delicately placing it on her foot. He then tied her laces, two knots as she liked, suppressing a smile when he confirmed his suspicions: she was indeed blushing.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Alexandria didn't like waiting in the car. Despite wanting to leave her current life situation, she hated not knowing what was going on and much preferred being involved in the mission. This Eagles and Angels gala, where the Turkish ambassador's wife was going to be, was only for the male cops. It was their only shot at getting that card since she had a flight scheduled for that night. She was one of the card holders that Michael identified.

She was in the getaway car with Bellick, paying attention to any sign that might tell her they were in trouble. Inside, Alexander, Burrows and Michael were doing all the action. She could bet all the money she didn't have that Alexander was not having a great time going with them. Years of close partnership made it difficult for them to work with anyone else. There was no other person in the world who could read her as he did, who could anticipate her actions, and who knew her that much. She hated that with all her heart because no matter how far they were from each other in the universe, that would always remain true.

'You know, I don't like when you get all pensive like that... you get like in a trance.'

'I'm just concentrated this time, Bellick. They are taking too long and I don't like it.'

'You don't like Burrows and Scofield taking your place as Alex's partner?'

'I don't like this thing in general. But yes. I don't have the best experience working with them, especially Burrows.'

'Tell me about it, Michael abandoned me at Sona like a fucking dog.'

'Actually... It was my idea.'

'What?'

'Not leaving you, but... I told Michael that breaking out with so many people was impossible and that he would need to sacrifice some to have a distraction. I wanted them to be Lechero and T-Bag... but then you came out of the tunnel with them and... I just felt terrible about it.'

'Hey, it was stupid me who was lured by T-Bag... you had no control over that.'

'Anyway, I'm sorry...'

'Apology accepted, but again, it wasn't your fault.'

'Bellick... can I ask you a question?'

'Yeah.'

'What are you going to do when this is all over?'

'I want to take my mom on vacation... and maybe find a better house for both of us.'

'That's sweet.'

'What about you? Are you and Alex heading somewhere?'

'I'll never work with Alexander again. I just want to disappear... go far away... maybe open a plant shop... I don't know.'

'Far away and plants? You should try New Zealand... and... can I ask what happened between you two?'

'Too complicated.'

'When we were in Sona... I asked Alex if he thought you would agree to go with me afterward, you know, because I thought we both needed some company... and he got so mad. My mama would say he was jealous even. Also, sometimes he would talk in his sleep and among the things I could catch was "Brie, be careful" or something like that... he cares about you... a lot.'

'Don't tell me those things, Bellick.'

'Okay but whatever you decide... I think you'll do great.'

'I hope you have a lot of fun with your mother and-' Michael's cell phone ringing in the back seat caught their attention. They had specifically asked not to be called during the operation unless it was an emergency. But when she saw the caller's name, something inside told her that she needed to pick up immediately.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Grief was a bitch. It makes you do things you never imagined to do. For Sara, it was going to a bar and ordering a beer after so many months of being sober. Just like Alexander, she had struggled with addictions, and believe it or not, she understood the need to resort to drugs whenever life became too much. Fortunately for her, the barwoman was kind and was able to talk her out of it.

The death of Mr. Bennett, who was her friend and father figure, entirely devastated her. It was an unnatural death, so there was a strong possibility of all being orchestrated by the Company, which made her feel worse because, in a way, it was her fault. She put him in danger by helping her after she escaped from Gretchen, and she wondered if he would still be alive if she hadn't made that call. But there was nothing she could do now. He was dead, just like her father, her mother, her ex-boyfriend, and almost everyone in her life. Thank God for Michael.

She didn't know how to feel about the rest of the crew: Lincoln was friendly to her, but she knew about his explosive personality and that he kept many things to himself. She knew Sucre and Bellick from working at Fox River, but that seemed like years ago, and they had dramatically changed. For the better, which was a good thing. No comment on Roland or Self. Mahone... she had mixed feelings about him. He was the same man who basically kidnapped her and eventually arrested her, and at the same time, he was an addict immersed in a deep depression.

And then, there was Alexandria—the only other girl on the team. To be honest, that was the only reason she wanted to talk to her more, but if Mahone was a mystery, she was an undecipherable riddle. She was scary, cold, and didn't seem human from their first encounter, but she had those glimpses of being more than a trained assassin. Sara didn't know if she could discover what was hiding behind those shades.

Alexandria slept on a platform in the upper part of the warehouse, which was only accessible by climbing or using a ladder. She wanted to think she chose that awkward location so that she would not be bothered or seen, so she didn't know if something had happened to her during the night. When she asked her for that favor, her eyes were red and puffy, like she had been crying. She also had noticed her tense relationship with Mahone, which was unusual considering how close they were while chasing the Fox River's Eight and everything she did to break him out of Sona. Anyway, she may never know for sure.

As she was leaving the bar (without a single drop of alcohol in her system, thank God), she had a strange sensation. She felt observed as if someone was following her. She was about to use the cut to get faster to the warehouse, but her instinct told her to take the longer route. If someone followed her, she'd be guiding them directly to their operation's base. She turned around and saw him walking toward her at a medium pace, not looking around or trying to be discreet. Her heart started beating so fast when she saw a gun partially hidden next to his waist.

She took her phone and started walking a little bit faster while she looked into her contacts. Michael was the obvious choice, but she didn't know if he was back from the mission. There was a chance that the phone call might affect their plans, but she didn't have much time to think. After a few seconds, she heard a female voice on the other side of the line.

'Sara, what's going on?'

'Who's this?'

'Jones. Michael and the rest are still inside; they left their phones in the car. What's going on?'

'I think someone is following me.'

'Describe them to me.'

'Male, tall, probably 6'4" or 6'5", strong complexion, stoic face, is wearing a black suit and shades. He is walking right behind me, and... he has a gun.'

'Where are you?'

'A few blocks from the warehouse, I noticed him following me and decided to take the long route.'

'Good thinking. Are you heading north or south?'

'South.'

'Have you passed the bus stop?'

'I am about to.'

'Great, stop there, do not hang up. Is the bus coming?'

'Yeah... and also he's getting closer.'

'Don't panic, act naturally. Here's what you will do: get on the bus, he's going to follow you. From now on, don't answer. Go to the back of the bus.' Sara did as told. A few seconds later, the man also got into the bus, never taking his eyes off her. 'Stay close to the back door. Get out when the bus is about to start and close the doors. Do it quickly.'

Sara felt adrenaline increasing inside her. She felt as if she was about to throw up, but she didn't have time for this. She sat in the seat closest to the exit and even smiled at the man. When the last passenger was up, she saw the driver pulling the lever to close the door, and she jumped. She fell knees first and let out a small scream of pain, but she was out. In the distance, she saw the man quickly standing up to see where she landed. There was a hint of hate in his cold expression, but she didn't notice it because the bus was already a block away.

'Sara! Talk to me!'

'Oh, sorry, I forgot. I am out.'

'Good, go immediately to the warehouse. There is a knife hidden under my pillow. Keep it close to you while we get there. The salvo guns are in the closet. The combination in the lock is 0114.'

'Thank you. Thank you so much.'

'It's nothing, we'll be there soon.'

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He was so scared of facing Pam. He only got to see her for a few seconds after he arrived at the crime scene. Shortly after that, he got arrested. She looked like a ghost of her former self. Her sleepless nights were evident. He just wished she would be stronger than him and that she wouldn't succumb to drugs.

'Thanks for meeting me. I'd have come up to see you, but I can't travel that far.' Everybody in that cafeteria were just normal people. Without worries. Without something taken from them...

'I'm sorry, but you said that you had some pictures to show me.'

He took the pictures that Roland had pulled from the FBI database based on the spoken drawing that came with Cameron's autopsy report. Someone had taken it from the Durango office and sent it to the warehouse without a return address. One by one, Pam kept disregarding each suspect until she saw one that almost made her want to throw up. The panic in her eyes made Alexander quickly grab the picture and set it aside. He had to control himself in order not to destroy the picture of their son's murderer.

'I'll get in touch with you as soon as... As soon as I find out.'

'You didn't do this... In your heart, you are a really good man, that's why I married you. That's why I started a family with you.' Both Pam and Alexander were sobbing with each word. 'When you used to bring your files home and I would beg you to leave that stuff at work. But when you have a monster in your sight, you can't focus until you get him. I used to hate that about you... I didn't understand how you and Jones could live like that... But right now, it's the only thing that lets me sleep, because I know that you are going to get him.'

With a subtle movement, Pam grabbed her purse and gave him a charged gun with extra bullets. He grabbed it and pulled her into a hug. It was the first time in years that he would hug her, not wanting to get back together. The only thing that united them was their profound grief and mourning and the promise that Cam's memory would never be forgotten because if there was one good thing they both did in this life, it was him. All the hate and resentment long forgotten. Vengeance took that place.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

'Did you talk with Pam?'

'Yeah, she identified the person.'

'Let me see.'

Just like Pam, Brie immediately became incredibly pale and dropped the picture. Her eyes were wide open, and her breathing was accelerating. She sat on the floor, followed by Alexander, who, doubtfully, placed his hand on her knee. She didn't even react, completely lost in her thoughts.

'Brie? Are you okay?' Silence. It was the same expression she used to have whenever they had to go to a cemetery, but ten times worse. He tried again. 'Brie? Are you okay? What's wrong?' After a few seconds, she stood up slowly. He took his hand off her knee and got closer to notice any changes or anything that could give him a clue about what was on her mind.

'There are three things wrong with this: first, this bastard killed Cameron... he shot him twice... he shot a six-year-old twice. Second, his appearance matches the description of someone following Sara yesterday, so he probably is still around. And the third one...'

'The third one?'

'I know him, Alexander. I know who he is.'

'Is he from...'

'Yes. From... there. And because of that, I know what he is capable of.'

'Brie...'

'He's just like me, Alexander. He's a professional assassin.'

Chapter Text

"I will smile and never count the cost"

‘I cannot help you Alexander.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I can’t, I just can’t… he… he…’

‘Brie look at me.’ He got closer to her and placed his hands on her cheeks. ‘We are going to find that son of a bitch and we’ll end him, together. I need you to focus, ok? Let’s start with a name.’

‘Mathewson, if he hasn’t changed it.’

‘Good, that’s good. Anything else you remember?’

‘He was afraid of the dark…’

‘That’s when you were kids Brie…’

‘I’m sorry! I cannot think right now!’ Tears were starting to form in her eyes.

‘Okay, okay… I’ll ask Sara some questions and see if that Roland guy can help us.’

‘Yeah… yeah… Alexander?’

‘Yes?’

‘Can you stop touching me?’

‘Sorry I forgot.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

She let him take the lead. Initially, she believed all plans had to come from her, considering how affected he was. But right now, she needed to lie down. Alexandria Jones had always been a cold and calculating person, the complete opposite of the individual curled up in her bed at that moment. The rest of the group was preparing to head to a building; they had tracked another Scylla card and were ready to copy it. She and Alexander would go to different motels to search for Mathewson. Self was not particularly keen on them doing that, but when Michael offered him a crucial role in the mission and he quickly forgot.

‘Jones I heard you had a knife around here and we need it to- are you okay?’ Lincoln was standing a few inches away from her bed.

‘I have it here, take it.’ She didn’t turn to see him, she just took the knife from under her pillow and gently threw it on his direction.

‘Can I talk to you for a second?’

‘I thought we were not on speaking terms.’

"Look, it’s true that we’re not the closest friends… not even the best enemies… But I heard you talking with Mahone the other day.’

‘What the fuck are you talking about?’

‘Cameron… I think that was his name.’

‘Oh…’

‘I’m so sorry… I am also a dad, and the thought of that happening to L.J. is so… I just talked with Alex and told him that everything was in the past. If I can help him with anything about his son’s murderer, I’ll do it.’

‘Thank you, Lincoln.’

‘I also heard that you were going to help him.’

‘Cameron is… was a great kid. I helped him bringing him to this word, you know? Whenever Alexander would drive me nuts and I’d think of quitting I’d think of Cam… It’s not fair.’

‘I never thought you had a heart.’

‘Neither did I, but he somehow found it.’

‘I was just joking... that’s sad. Anyway, I wanted to say the same thing. Let’s leave everything in the past, and if I can help with anything, just let me know, okay?’

‘Okay… we are not friends; you know right?’

‘Definitely not.’

‘Good luck with the mission, and... hey! You forgot the knife!’

‘I never needed a knife.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Roland managed to track down fifty-three motels using the search criteria that Alexander suspected might fit Mathewson's hiding spot. Along with Sara’s description of a car she noticed a few minutes before realizing she was being followed, this information helped him devise a plan to narrow down possible locations. He needed to print the locations, so Alexander decided to wait outside. Brie stood a few feet away, also preparing. With her black boots, tight bun, black gloves, and a knife, it felt like they were gearing up for a mission. However, the sadness in her eyes didn’t align with the image of a professional assassin. Despite being partners for so long, he had never really taken the time to look out for her, as selfish as that may sound; in terms of fighting and survival, there was no one like Brie. But now, he made the commitment of taking care of her, in all aspects.

‘You know I read this article a while ago, about this whole nature versus nurture thing.’ Roland said while handling Alexander the paper with the addresses. ‘And it turns out it’s all kind of a mish-mash because DNA trumps everything. And I believe it, because I mean, I grew up I the same house, went to the same school as my brother, who’s a math professor, my sister’s a paediatrician, and I’m a thief who blows his money on hookers and coke. So like the same way Scofield’s hardwired to be a genius, and you are always gonna be a lawman, right? I mean, whoever this guy is, you think he wanted to grow up to be a murderer? Probably not.’

Alexander was listening, but he wasn’t looking at Roland until those last words. ‘Be very careful choosing the next words that come out of your mouth.’

‘I’m just saying. We are who we are.’

He expected her to say something. To explode at the boy like he had seen her do before. But she remained quiet. Maybe she hadn’t heard him. He hoped she hadn’t. The memories of those endless nights spent talking to each other came back like a flash. It was before the Company, before the sex, even before Cameron. Their first few months together. The pain in her eyes was the same as it was now, and he was not going to tolerate it. He had made a promise. He had made a promise... The last motel was a few miles away. They had called ahead to buy some time and asked if anyone there matched Mathewson's description.

‘Can I help you?’ The guy behind the desk didn’t bother to look up when they crossed the front door.

‘We phoned earlier about one of your guests.’

‘Gray sedan, right?’ The man finally stood up and approached them

‘Yeah… is that the guy?’ Alexander showed him the picture, a little too close to his face.

‘Yeah that’s him.’

‘What room?’ Alexandria traced the knife’s shape hanging from her waist with her finger.

‘He was in 130. He checked out.’

‘Did he leave any clue as to where he was going?’ Alexander was starting to get desperate.

‘Nope.’

‘Do you mind if we look at the room?’

‘$19 an hour, $59 for the night.’

Alexander was now desperate. ‘Fine, whatever, give us the key.’ He tossed the man a $20 a grabbed the keys.

When he stepped out of the reception, he felt Brie holding his hand, stopping him. With a simple gesture, he understood that he needed to remain silent. They kept staring at each other, a silent conversation taking place. The realization of the convenience of that series of events dawned on him. Without letting go of her hand they rushed back in. The man was on the phone.

‘Hey you wanted to know if anyone came looking for you?’

Alexandria held her knife against the jugular while restraining him from behind. Alexander stood in front, pointing at his forehead. The man began to shake.

‘No, I was just calling to let you know my shift was ending and nobody showed up.’

A muffled voice on the other side of the line answered. ‘All right, thank you.’

‘What do you say you give me that little piece of paper in your hand?’ Alexandria pressed the knife against his throat. She knew precisely how much force to use to inflict injury or intimidate someone. A small trickle of blood began to appear.

‘Come on Brie, let’s get out.’

The ride back to the ware house was dead silent. She was slightly paler than usual and her eyes were glued to the road. Alexander kept playing with the paper in his hand. He didn’t have a clue about what he wanted to do next, but they needed to do it quickly. Mathewson could be anywhere, and he could also go anywhere. They were close to a mall when he felt Brie doing an exaggerated movement and turning to the parking lot in a blink. She stopped violently in one of the spots, ironically enough, she parked perfectly as always.

‘Brie?’

‘Do you think Roland is right?’

‘Absolutely fucking not. We’ve talked about this, Brie.’

‘It is just that… when I held that knife to that man’s neck, I just had “kill him, kill him” in my mind… I don’t know if I wanted to hurt him or not.’

‘You didn’t mean to. I know you didn’t.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Because I know you. The real you. You are kind, loyal, and empathetic…”

‘What if that’s all a façade? And I’m just this professional assassin behind that mask?’

‘If you were, Cam would have never trusted you.’

She gripped the steering wheel with more strength. With caution, he placed his hand on her back and started gently rubbing circles. Although her face didn't change, he felt her slowly relaxing. With bravery on his side, he took her chin to turn her face toward him. She was about to break.

‘You don’t want to hear this, but I fell in love with you because of your heart. Despite everything you had to endure, it has remained the same. You are a good person, Brie. You didn’t choose to live a life like yours so don’t punish yourself. You are more than this. Much more.’

He felt it in the air. They were getting closer, one nanometer at a time. He kept caressing her chin, not trusting the reality he was living. He was about to close his eyes when she pushed him and started the car once again. Part of him was grateful that nothing had happened; it was not the right time or place.

‘We need to head back. They got the card.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

She had never understood the appeal of horse racing. But the fourth cardholder was an avid bettor, and this was an all-hands-on-deck situation. So, everyone was there. They were getting good at this, and even though no one would say it aloud (maybe Sucre or Bellick), they were a strong team. They had manipulated the gates so that the cardholder’s favorite horse had no chance of winning, forcing him to complain to the manager, who would be strategically placed in a room where Roland’s device was hidden. Alexandria was in charge of the latter, and Alexander was the one who needed to retrieve the device.

Simple and easy.

Simple and easy.

Except nothing is simple and easy. And everything had to go worse than expected. In the disturbance caused by people losing money over that gate, Bellick had found Alexandria and guided her towards the exit. She wanted to think Alexander could manage alone, but they didn’t have the blueprints of the building, so they didn’t know there was a back door. They didn’t know that Alexander got trapped in the manager’s office, and they didn’t know he decided to go through that door. They didn’t know that when he was trying to escape, he had punched a guard and in a matter of seconds, at least a dozen policemen were surrounding him. The next time they saw him, he was in handcuffs escorted to a police car.

Sara had to remind her they were still in a public space so she wouldn’t start running after the car. Back in the warehouse, she was the first to contact Self to get him out of jail. He had already gotten them out of prison for way worse crimes, so this should be simple and easy, right? Wrong again.

‘It was Self. He managed to take the device from his things, but he will remain in jail.’ Michael was just staring at Alexandria, engaged in yet another staring contest. ‘We don’t have a choice; we move forward with the plan. Now, if you’ll excuse me, he’s outside with the device.’ Michael delivered his last sentence as he walked toward the exit.

Everyone let out a big sigh, aware that if anyone failed like Alexander did, no one would look after them. Sara tried to reach for Alexandria’s hand when she noticed she was no longer to her right.

‘I can get to him. I mean he can be touched.’ Self’s voice was low but not too low from the distance that Alexandria was. ‘I don’t know Michael, maybe Mahone is a stand-up guy or maybe he likes to run his mouth to work an angle, I’m not sure. Bur if need be, I can get rid of that angle. I can eliminate that threat.’

‘That’s not an option.’

‘Look, if a choice has to be made, between him or us-‘

Michael watched as Self grew paler by the second. Alexandria had a rope tightly grasped in her hands and was choking the Homeland agent with all her strength. She was furious, pressing harder and harder. He knew it was dangerous to let her continue, but he also wanted to teach Self a lesson. A few seconds later, he signaled for her to let him go.

‘You crazy bitch!’

‘Oh so you want another round?’

‘Jones, that’s okay. I think he gets that we are going to get Mahone out.’

‘Over my dead body.’

‘Let’s do that then.’ She proceeded to place the rope back on.

‘Wait, wait! ‘

Self’s phone began to ring. Michael pulled it from his pocket and pressed the speaker button when he saw the number.

‘Michael.’

‘Alex, look we are-‘

‘I don’t have much time. Tell Alexandria that he found me. He goes by Wyatt. Wyatt Mathewson and he’s here at the station. I don’t know how he figured it out.’

‘Hold on, maybe Self can help you get moved,” Michael said as Alexandria released her hostage. He saw something he never expected to see on her face: fear.

‘No, no. It’s over for me. It’s done. And I’m not going to say anything about anything. But you need to tell Alexandria something, okay?’

‘She’s listening.’

‘You need to get him. You’ll kill that son of a bitch for me okay? And then you’ll call Pam and you’ll tell her that he’s gone. And Brie…. I’m sorry… for everything. Thank you… for everything. I lo-’ The call ended abruptly. Silence. Nobody dared to say anything.

‘Self?’

‘Jones I’m so sorry I…’

‘Save it. You promised a funeral if we failed on this mission. Let me go and collect his body…. Maybe I’ll get Wyatt and I’ll kill him as well. I’ll save you a trip.’

‘You didn’t let me finish. I have some information regarding that. Maybe he won’t die. FBI agents were arriving at the scene to take him into their custody.’

‘But if FBI knows that he’s here then….’

‘It’s all messed up but I said he tried to escape. They don’t know. Also, the person taking him for a “special” trial was also doing it under the rug.

‘Do you have a name?’

‘James Sullins, I think.’

‘SON OF A BITCH! Michael, please tell me you have a plan.’

‘That’s not all Jones… you were called to testify…. Against him- Look, I know it’s bad, but it’s the only thing I could do not to blow everything off!’

‘I FUCKING HATE YOU! OVER MY DEAD BODY!’

‘Alexandria. I have a plan.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Kristine Kellerman thought her life would be easier once she moved from Chicago to LA. But things are never easy or simple when your brother is a wanted man hiding in your basement. When Paul showed up at her door begging for help, she had her doubts. She believed in justice and knew Paul had made many mistakes for which he needed to be held accountable. Then he shared his plan: they had made a promise long ago regarding a missing part of their lives, and Paul was close to reaching their common goal. So, they agreed that he could stay in her basement until it was done, after which he would turn himself in.

That’s why when she received the notification for jury duty, something felt off. She had done it before, but this court was smaller, almost like a private hearing. The man on the stand was a former FBI agent, the same one who had been chasing the Fox River’s Eight like her brother. The reading of his crimes took almost five whole minutes. She also noticed that the man had no defense, just people testifying against him. She noted some of the names to remember later: Felicia Lang, Pamela Larson, Mark Wheeler, James Sullins… Some were saying nice things about the man, while others made worse accusations than what was on file.

It was all really odd. That Sullins guy had a smug look on his face, as if he had planned everything to take down ex-agent Mahone. Even weirder were Alexander’s expressions: he was barely listening to the testimonies, not even the one from his ex-wife, which was the most heartbreaking of them all (their son was killed in what looked like a revenge act). He was just staring at the juror next to her—a tall man with a cold expression. He looked terrified, as if he knew him before.

Hours passed, and it seemed that Alexander Mahone lacked any redeeming qualities. Not a single person uttered something powerful enough to earn him a pitying glance. A few minutes later, a woman entered the "courthouse." She was dressed entirely in black and resembled Trinity from the Matrix movies—kind of cool, kind of scary. Kristine observed two things: first, the juror beside her immediately shifted his focus to the woman, unable to look away; second, Alexander finally altered his expression, appearing to have a silent conversation with her.

After reciting the pledge, Alexandria Jones took her place in the stand and began answering questions vaguely, as if she didn’t want to throw Mahone under the bus any more than he already was. Eventually, the attorney, growing desperate with her indifference, posed her final question.

‘Miss Jones, can you tell me one thing, just one thing good about Mr. Mahone?’

They never broke eye contact. Honestly speaking, Kristine was mesmerized by their “telepathy.” She saw Alexander breathing heavier and heavier until he got up from his seat.

‘No! Don’t do it!’

All eyes were on Alexandria.

Chapter Text

"Shall I catch a shooting star?"

I need time, Jones. I need YOU to buy me time. Courthouses are tricky.’

‘Michael, even if the FBI has him in custody, Mathewson might get him. We don’t have time.’

‘Take your time with the questions, be doubtful, I don’t know!’

‘With everything I know about him I’d be burying him more than he already is.’

‘I know… but that’s the only way. I’ll give you a radio so we know what is happening inside. In the precise moment, two of us will jump in and you’ll escape through the back door, ok?’

It wasn’t an official FBI hearing, like his one in Panama. As soon as she arrived at the “courthouse” she knew it. It was all orchestrated by Sullins. The documents didn’t have the official signatures or stamps, he just needed a declaration to make it seem as if Alexander had confessed and was willingly accepting his fate. She was surprised to see Lang, Pam, and Wheeler. Yes, they all had unfortunate situations with Alexander, but they knew this hearing would only drown him more. Or maybe they didn’t know.

She almost threw up at the sight of Mathewson: he was sitting as part of the jury watching her every move. How the hell did he get in here? The rest of the jury were normal people. Or at least that’s what they wanted you to believe. Each one had a connection with someone involved in the government or law enforcement (and definitely Company). She didn’t know all of them but recognized Kristine Kellerman, Paul Kellerman’s sister. When they started working with him, she ran a background check and noticed her as his emergency contact.

As she walked to the stand, her heart started beating faster and faster. Through the corner of her eye she could see the silhouettes of people going back and forth. Michael and the rest. They would cause a power outage that would give them enough time to take Alexander and leave, but it would take a while. Mathewson didn’t take his eyes off her: he looked the same, except more grown up and with a beard. It was as if they were competing to see who had the coldest expression. He was winning. She was nervous. She focused on Alexander as the attorney asked stupid questions and she easily jumped through loopholes. Alexandria kept repeating in her mind, hoping that he would catch the message, that she was doing her best, that she was not going to leave him alone.

‘Did you see Mr. Mahone pushing Mr. Patoshik?’

‘I was on the ground.’

‘Did you see Mr. Mahone shooting Mr. Apolskis?’

‘No.’

‘Did Mr. Mahone use excessive force for Mr. Abruzzi’s detention?’

‘No.’

‘Do not make me declare you a hostile witness Ms. Jones… or are you in love with Mr. Mahone?’

No.’

The attorney was finishing his examination. And according to the guard she was the last witness. She didn’t have time. Years of hiding, creating stories, and lying would end in that moment. She cleaned the sweat in her palms and turned to look at him. Realization and desperation were filling his eyes. She just wished he understood how grateful she was for him, and to forgive her for anything she may have caused. Because once she finished, she wasn’t sure what would happen to her.

‘Miss Jones, can you tell me one thing, just one thing good about Mr. Mahone?’

‘No! Don’t do it!’ Alexander stood up. He was venting and about to cry.

Plan B was officially in action.

‘My mother was the other woman, and my father already had two kids, a boy and a girl, that’s all I know. He left her a few days before I was born and my mother… well she was not okay because of that. She spent my first years depressed and lonely, but when I turned three, someone told her about a community that helped single mothers. It was called “Katalyma” from Luke 22:11, the place where Jesus was going to celebrate Passover. It was ruled by a man named Johan Stone, and everything seemed incredible: kids playing, mothers bonding, Bible studies, pretty girls with pretty braids, everyone in white clothing representing their purity…

But everything was a facade. That poor excuse of a person was not Johan Stone, or Jeff Matthews, or Christopher McCan. His name was Oscar Shales. And he didn’t create Katalyma to help single mothers, no. He took those women and kidnapped them, forcing them to become their sexual slaves, torturing them, and brainwashing them. He had a different plan for the kids. As soon as we were able to read, he started training us. He wanted his own league of professional assassins that would be in charge of killing whoever discovered him, kidnap more people, and help with the tortures. By the age of eight, I knew how to use all kinds of weapons; when I was ten, I knew a handful of martial arts; and when I turned twelve, I cut my first head. I probably killed over 200 people before I turned 18.

My mother was not able to handle it. She threw herself from a water tower right in front of me when I was eleven… her blood all over my body, my clothes, my white dress… Shales would also abuse many of us, and if you resisted, he would make you dig one of the graves in a cemetery nearby while reciting Psalm 88, the only book allowed was the Bible, and we had to memorize it in English, Latin, and Greek. He would then make you go inside and bury everything but your head and you’d stay there for hours.

He always told me that it was a good thing she died because now I could stop crying every night and focus on what’s important. That my emotions made me weak. He managed to absorb everything I felt until I was dry inside. I was his best soldier. Effective, fast, and deadly. I had nothing to lose. I also helped to move the camp site from county to county, we started moving a lot because the police began investigating. But that didn’t stop Shales.

One day, we were tasked with setting fire to a kindergarten in Chicago, and kidnapping the children and the teachers. I was the leader of the operation and I was about to burn the building to ashes but… something inside me woke up when I saw the kids and the caretakers scared to death, and… I couldn’t do it. I helped all of them escape. Shales and the rest of the team were furious.

On our way back to the campsite, I jumped from the bus and started running, not looking back. I was finally aware of all the atrocious things he had made me do, and I couldn’t handle it anymore. Of course he sent his army after me. I lived on the streets for weeks, scared of them finding me, until I saw in a newspaper that they were offering a reward for information about “Jeff Matthews.” I went to that address, to try to tell them that they were investigating the wrong name, and that they probably were way off because of that. But agent Sullins was quick to throw me out of the facilities, claiming that I was crazy and that in no way a homeless girl would know more than the FBI. I tried five more times and he even ordered me not to enter the building.

I was about to give up when I noticed someone following me after my last attempt. He asked me to tell him more about Shales and he even offered to buy me something to eat while we talked. I hadn’t eaten in days. That person was Alexander Mahone. He was the only one in that office who had an actual lead on Shales, and the only one that listened to me. I told him everything and begged him to let me help them find Shales; I was the only one who could know his next moves.

And he took me under his wing. Someone in the army owed him a favour, so he made special accommodations to create a fake backstory in the military and justify my abilities. He gave me somewhere to live and did everything he could to let me in the FBI. Everyone was suspicious because I appeared out of nowhere, but I finally had a story, an identity, a name… Did I mention that we didn’t have a name? The only thing I had from my past life, before I turned three, was a fragment of what I think is a blanket, and the name “Brie” was embroidered on it. I don’t know if it is short for something, but that’s the only thing I know about myself. He gave us last names based on the day we arrived at the camp. I arrived on June 24th, St. John’s Day, so Jones. I chose Alexandria for my legal name… to honor the person who saved my life.

So we started working together to find Shales, but he was smart. He changed his name and appearance several times, but one day we got him. He had nowhere to go. I set fire to the campsite, not sure how many survived. But Alexander and I were scared he could get out because of technical issues. And when we were deciding what to do with him, he attacked me and was threatening to kill me if we didn’t set him free. Alexander shot at his knee. While he was on the ground, there was no doubt what we needed to do. We both pulled the trigger, six more times, and buried his body. It was over.

I begged Alexander not to reveal anything about my story, not to the police, the FBI, not even his back-then wife. I couldn’t handle people knowing it and treating me differently because of it. And he kept his promise. He made the reign of terror of a sinister man end. He saved many lives. He changed my life and gave me a purpose, a good one. And yes, he’s made some mistakes, but he is not a cold-blooded murderer. He only follows orders because he is the type of person that would go to the end of the world if the people he loves are in danger, which has been the case. Maybe, start looking further and don’t use him as an easy way to get promoted you fucking-lazy ass Sullins! Instead of creating a fake trial to make him go to prison.’

The brief silence after her testimony was interrupted with the sound of lightbulbs exploding and people screaming. The small window from the side of the room wasn’t enough to let people see what was happening. Alexander felt some people grabbing him by the arm and tried to fight back when he noticed it was Sucre and Lincoln. He was trying to see where Brie had gone.

‘She left through the other door; we must go now!’ Lincoln was almost dragging him. Outside was a van with the rest of the crew minus Sara. They jumped right in and Lincoln got them out in seconds. Through the rear-view mirror he could see Wyatt, pointing a handgun towards him, simulating shooting him.

‘I can’t believe we did it! Alex, you are here!’ Bellick was a little too excited given the circumstances.

‘Where is she?’

‘Sara has the other car; we would be too many. Don’t worry, we have a plan.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The plan was to get out of the courtroom as soon as possible and meet Sara in the garden of an abandoned house they found a few blocks away. But she didn’t make it that far. She was trying to muffle her sobs while making herself as small as possible in that bathroom stall. On one occasion, Alexander told her that if she’d tell her story one day, she would feel a weight lift up her shoulders, but that wasn’t the case. Hearing herself telling those painful memories only increased the ache in her heart, and the guilt was not leaving her chest.

She let it all out. It was a matter of time before someone found her, but she didn’t care. She could handle them. She was trained for that, right? A few seconds later she heard someone entering the bathroom. Bracing herself, she took a deep breath, ready to fight whoever stood before her stall.

‘Don’t say anything, they are coming.’ Kristine Kellerman whispered as she entered the stall through the gap on the floor. As soon as she was in, she sat on the toilet, tapping her fingers in her knees and listening attentively to the noise outside.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Shut up, they are coming.’

The principal door opened and she could hear Lang’s distinctive voice talking to the radio, informing her movements. She started to open each of the stalls, each one with more force than the previous. When she was two stalls away from them, Kristine placed her feet on the ground and flushed the toilet, quickly getting out and closing the door.

‘Miss Kellerman, where you here this whole time?’

‘Yeah, always here… My bad, I shouldn’t have eaten that burrito on my way here.’

‘Did you hear anyone entering the bathroom?’

‘Just you.’

‘If you see someone, let me know, Alex and Jones are nowhere to be found.’

After a few seconds, Kristine opened the stall door, revealing a very confused Brie. ‘She’s gone, but you have to hurry, more cops are arriving.’

‘Why?’

‘Just… take care, please.’

Kristine helped her reach the window on the upper part of the bathroom, with a soft nod, she jumped to the other side and started running to the abandoned house.

‘Where were you?!’

‘Sorry Sara, I was trapped somewhere. Did you get him?’

‘He’s at the warehouse with the rest.’

‘Okay then, let’s go… Sara chest down!’

She placed her hand on Sara’s head to keep her as close to the ground as possible. Wyatt was on the other side of the street. She watched him through the broken window. But he wasn’t looking in her direction. He was facing the opposite direction. She had limited visibility, but she could see that he was facing an alley leading to another set of houses. There was no one around, so he wasn’t exchanging information. What the hell was he looking at?

‘Son of a bitch.’

‘What? What is going on? You are hurting me.’ Sara could barely move; Brie was pressing her head hard.

‘Sorry it’s just… You need to stay here. I’ll be right back.’

‘What?! I’m not leaving you, they are looking for you!’

‘If I don’t go now, I’ll never forgive myself.’

‘What? I’m not following you!’

‘I’m so sorry Sara.’

She exited the house and ran across the street, but he was gone. In a fraction of a second he disappeared. She looked around, not wanting to confirm what she had previously seen, but sometimes nightmares do come true: Wyatt was standing a few feet away from the house he had just seen Pam enter.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It wasn’t healthy feeling all those emotions at the same time. Pam had to take a Xanax before giving her testimony because she felt like she was going to have a panic attack when she saw that monster in the jury section. What was he doing here? Felicia had to cuff her to her chair so she wouldn’t attack him. In her drowsiness, the stories of what Alex had done hit her with no mercy. Who was this person? Was she really married to him? Did she let her kid near that man while he murdered all those people? And then… Alexandria.

Or was it Brie now? She didn’t know what to say. It explained a lot of the things she was wrong about, and unlocked so many memories that she saw with new eyes with that information. She felt horrible. And dizzy. The effects of the medication were still on. She entered the house she’d rented for the trial when she felt a big hand covering her mouth and nose.

‘Hello, Pam. I wanted to talk to you after the trial.’

The sound of the door coming down startled them. He’d loosen his grip, which Pam took advantage of, to free herself and run to safety. At the door, a furious Brie stared at Wyatt, who forgot about Pam for a second and was staring back. Ironically, the last thought that crossed her mind before starting, was her “cue word,” which Shales used when he needed his killing machines.

Destroy.

Her blood was on fire, and every instinct screamed for her to crush him. Her fists were flying. He raised his arms to block, but she was faster, her right hook catching him under the chin. Before he could recover, her boot slammed into his ribs. She went again to punch him, but he managed to block her, grabbing her wrist and twisting it mercilessly. Brie was clearly in pain but her mouth didn’t make a sound; instead she kicked back, aiming straight to his groin.

To Pam, it looked like two robots fighting. She knew she had to take that word out of her vocabulary whenever she needed to describe her, but it was true. For every punch from Brie, Wyatt knew what to expect. There were some moves where they were mirroring each other. Clearly, the same person trained them, but there was a difference: Brie was unbelievably angry.

In a split second, she ran toward him, her shoulder crashing into his midsection as she tackled him to the ground. Her knees were pinning his shoulders, her fists pounding into him again and again and again. Her knuckles split, but the blood felt like fuel. Wyatt extended his arm, grabbed a nearby vase and crashed it with all his might on her head, getting a groan from Brie and a scream from Pam. She was trying to regain her balance when he stood up. He grabbed her neck and started choking her. He started running toward a wall to get a better grip but she managed to change their direction. Shattering glass filled the air as they crashed through the back garden door.

Brie took advantage of the new scenery, grabbed a hose, and began choking him instead. He pushed her against the wall repeatedly, trying to make her stop. He managed to catch the hose and broke it in half. He turned around to continue but her right leg swung up with brutal force, her knee crashing into his stomach, knocking him backward. He was trying to reach something near to her face to bring her down with him.

‘I’m not braiding my hair anymore, Mathewson!’

He didn’t answer. He kicked her in the knee, which made her lose her balance and fall. He grabbed her by the ankle and dragged her through the dirt and placed her in the middle of the garden. From the inside of his suit jacket, he pulled out a gun and pointed at her chest. She never stopped looking at him. For a second she saw the little boy scared of the dark who cried when Shales gave him his first gun. The boy she would sneak food for whenever Shales punished him. The boy she sat next to in Bible studies. The perfect trifecta alongside Blake, the girl with beautiful blonde hair. She didn’t hear the cars arrive.

Alexander arrived just in time to see Wyatt shoot three times at Brie and escape when he saw the van. He could hear Pam screaming at a distance but his only focus was her. He went pale and tears started rolling as he ran towards her.

‘BRIE! No! No!’

She had collapsed to the ground. He could see blood all over her face, cuts and bruises. The only thing that calmed him a little bit was seeing her chest going up and down. He kneeled next to her, surrounding her with his arms.

‘Please don’t die! Please don’t die!’

‘V…’ Her voice was really faint and breathy.

‘What?’

‘V-vest. Vest.’ She slowly rolled up her shirt to reveal a bulletproof vest. It was one of the special ones they give you as a federal agent. Maybe Self got it for her.

‘Oh my God. You are going to be okay. We need to get you to a hospital.’

‘No… Tancredi… Warehouse… I’m fine.’

‘I can treat her at the warehouse… I have all my equipment there but we need to hurry.’ Sara quickly arrived next to them.

He carried her in his arms, careful not to make more damage. She looked so fragile and he felt like he was going to start crying again. As they were leaving, he felt someone tapping his shoulder. Slowly, he turned around to see Pam. She was crying as well.

‘Call Felicia and tell her to put you on witness protection. You’ll be safe that way.’

‘Ok… what about you two? Is she going to be okay?’

‘I can’t say much. I will get him, Pam. I promise.’

‘P-Pam? I’m sorry.’

‘Brie, don’t force yourself. We need to go.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When she woke up, everything was blurry, but she knew she was at the warehouse. That wasn’t her bed, and by the smell and location, she quickly realized she was on Alexander’s. It was quite obvious why they decided against using her room/platform in the heights. A few moments later, Sara arrived with her white coat, gloves and a bag full of medical supplies. She smiled as she began cleaning her wounds.

‘I don’t understand how you are not flinching.’

‘I got used to the pain. I actually used to enjoy getting injured because in that way, I’d know I was still alive.’

‘Hey… Did you know that we could hear everything you said, right?’

‘Yeah, I forgot about the radio for a second.’

‘Can I ask you a question?’

‘I don’t want to talk about my past anymore.’

‘It’s not about that. And… I just want to tell you that I think you are a superhuman. Or an antihero. You didn’t deserve what happened to you. But you are safe now… well, sort of. I’m terrible at female friendships, as you can see.’

‘Is this a friendship?’

‘I’d like it to be.’

‘I might… like that.’ Both smiled. ‘Shoot your question.’

‘How come you didn’t see when Alex shot Tweener?’

‘When you work for so many years at the FBI… you know that there are what we call…. Stupid questions. Questions that have loopholes and you can play with them. The attorney asked if I didn’t SEE him do it. Alexander and I made the pact that whenever he had to do that kind of thing I’d look away. So I didn’t SEE him doing it, I HEARD him, which is different, but that wasn’t his question.’

‘I see…’

‘It was a way of protecting each other. We didn’t enjoy it, you know? It was the Company.’

‘I know… that’s why we have to stop them. Also…’

‘Also?’

‘The attorney asked if you love Alex….’

‘Loophole I guess… say it in past and that might be true…. But not anymore. It was a mistake; it shouldn’t have happened. I made it stop before going to Panama.’

‘Made it stop?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Just like that?’

‘Just like that.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Positive.’

‘If you say so…’

‘Shut it Tancredi.’

‘Take this and try to rest… You will feel like a truck ran you over in the morning.’

She didn’t know what Sara gave her, but that made her go back to sleep instantly. Alexander slowly made his way inside while Sara was adjusting her IV. He placed a blanket on her and sat on the chair beside the bed.

‘Thank you.’

‘It’s nothing… and it’s not necessary to monitor her tonight. She didn’t have any fractures, bleedings… she’s tough.’

‘I know… but I’d like to stay.’

‘Ok then, if anything happens, you let me know.’

As soon as Sara left the room, he took one of her hands and brought it to his lips. He wanted to make sure she was real and that she was still there. The thought of how close he was to losing her that day sent shivers down his spine. He failed to protect her, and that would never happen again. He also thought about that story, a story he had heard before. A story he was part of.

He never regretted helping her. At first, it was because that dirty woman was clearly the key to succeeding on his first leading mission. But then he got to know her. He found this profoundly sensible, caring, and clever woman, who lived a life of injustices and torture. It was unfair to compare his upbringing with his abusive father, after all, she escaped a cult. But in a way, they both wanted the same: to be more than what was placed in front of them. Fuck nature vs nurture. He was not an abusive father; she was not an assassin. They both chose to be better, to do the right thing. Yes, it had been a rough path, and they still needed to do something to get to that life, but they would never be their past. That was the bond that had tied them together since day one.

‘All this time you have told me that I saved you. But in reality, Brie, you saved me. The day we met my life changed forever. You made me a better person, you make me want to be better every day. And on top of that, I had the privilege of falling in love with you… and it’s okay if you don’t love me back. I don’t expect you to. But, if you let me, I want to make sure that when we get out of here, you’ll live the life that you deserve. You’ll have your plant shop, and your mundane life, as you always wanted. I want you to be happy, to live a life you enjoy. I’ll make sure of it, Brie. Thank you.’

Chapter Text

"Shall I bring it where you are?"

When she woke up, she felt like a truck had run her over. Her internal clock was broken: it was almost 11 AM when she opened her eyes. Slowly, the events of the past day returned to her memory, a sense of terrible guilt and shame invading her as well. Everyone knew her story. Everyone knew who she was, her real name, the things she had done… She almost wished she hadn’t woken up.

The bathroom’s mirror showed her an image that could be included in a horror movie: she had several bruises all over her face, some cuts here and there, the evident marks of strangulation on her neck… Her three bullet scars in her shoulders were accompanied by three nasty bruises on her abdomen from the recent impacts. Overall, it could have been worse.

She could hear some distant conversations, a reminder that she was not alone and that, at any time, she would need to face them. The knot in her stomach got bigger just thinking about it. Right now, she just wanted to see Sara; maybe ask her for some makeup, more pain medication, something to go back to sleep... Her stomach started making some noise, and she realized she hadn’t eaten since the previous morning. But she didn’t know if she preferred to starve herself to death than seeing the pity look on everyone’s faces.

Showing weakness had been a big no-no throughout her life. She couldn’t bear seeing people feeling sorry for her. Her vulnerability was reserved for Alexander; he had been the only witness of her dark moments, the keeper of her secret. You may be asking why she trusted him so quickly. That was a difficult question, with many layers, but she had a secret answer that not even Alexander knew: his eyes. The sense of calmness she felt when he looked at her for the first time was something she couldn’t explain. There was kindness, genuine warmth, and curiosity. She would find any excuse to look him straight in the eye for the first months they worked together. His own blue ocean was the only thing able to calm her. Not even when he took her to the beach for the first time in her life was she able to feel the same. His ocean was more beautiful.

He hugged her for the first time after Shales was dead, and that substituted for a while her eternal search for reassurance in his eyes. Then everything became more complicated: the guilt, the PTSD, the divorce, the Company, their messy relationship… it all contributed to slowly modifying the foundation of their relationship, creating barriers, destroying some limits, and disturbing the delicate equilibrium they had at the beginning. But the thing that never changed was how his eyes made her feel.

And right now, she needed him more than ever. The thing about Plan B is that she never expected to be free or even alive once her story was out. It was a last-minute resource in case Alexander, or she were in danger, and the most obvious outcome would’ve been her imprisonment or someone killing her. She never expected to be alive afterward. Her stomach wasn’t helping her. Trying to put on a brave face, she opened the door to go to the kitchen, but as she opened the door, she found two sandwiches (cut in halves) and her ocean standing at the door.

‘I figured you’d be hungry… but I didn’t want to wake you up.’

‘Thanks, Alexander.’ He entered the room and sat on the bed. His bed, actually. ‘Where did you sleep? Mine is too high for you.’ By the way he ate his sandwich, she noticed he hadn’t eaten either. With a slight nod, he signaled the chair beside the bed. ‘Alexander…’

‘I’m sorry, Sara said it wasn’t necessary, but… anyway, eat. I saved mine so you could have some company, but if you don’t…’

‘It’s fine, thank you.’ There was an elephant in the room. They both knew each other so well that they knew they’d do small talk for hours, even days, before addressing what happened yesterday.

‘Hey, they found the next cardholder. He is in Vegas.’

‘Are we leaving today?’

‘No… well, yes. Michael is sending Lincoln, Sara, Sucre, and Roland. We have another task: T-Bag is here, and we need to find him to get Whistler’s book.’

‘Ok then… I need to get ready.’

‘Oh no, you are not going anywhere. You need to rest.’

‘I’m feeling better.’ She lied.

‘Brie.’

‘You tend to do stupid things when I’m not there. I’m fine.’

‘True, but Brie.’

‘Four people, four possibilities to get him. I’m fine.’

‘Brie.’

‘You need at least someone to drive. I’m fine.’

‘I can drive.’

‘Alexander.’

‘Brie. No. You did enough yesterday… more than enough… more than I… I just…’

He stood in front of her, not saying anything. He placed his hand on her cheek. It took her a tremendous amount of self-control not to react to the pain she was feeling. She saw his eyes becoming teary, and before she could say anything, she found herself in a tight embrace. She felt his heart beating fast and answered the hug a few seconds later. There was no need to talk, at least not right now. She sensed his fear, his guilt, his… love. He felt her sadness, her worry, her shame.

‘I felt like I had no other option.’

He just hugged her tighter.

What Brie didn’t know was that he had also been avoiding the rest of the team. Aside from Sara, he couldn’t bear talking to anyone else. The story was out, their story. He was sure that whatever he was feeling right now didn’t compare to how she was feeling. And yet, it was also his secret; he was part of that story, and his silence was a turning point for everything that came afterward. Now everybody knew. He didn’t want to tell Brie, but he could guess that part of the reason why Wyatt was able to overpower her was that she had revealed her emotions, her motivations, her vulnerable side… and he was still a soulless and bloodthirsty man. She couldn’t face him alone again, so they needed to be smarter and use his “advantage” against him. It was like Shales all over again.

He could see her shaking when they all had to gather to get on the same page about the simultaneous missions. Michael was saying different things, but he was not paying attention; he was more interested in intimidating with his gaze, whoever dared to look at Brie for longer than 10 seconds. When the meeting was over, and Roland was out of everyone’s sight, she placed herself in the middle of the room. Alexander felt a knot forming in his stomach.

‘I know you probably have questions… and I’ll try to answer as best as I can, but I just want to tell you two things: I am not an assassin. I used to be, for several years, but my circumstances gave me no choice. I'm not crazy, and I won't kill all of you. I… care about all of you. Not Roland or Self, though. And two… you can call me Brie. That’s my name.’ She would always speak unbelievably fast and all in one breath when nervous. That’s why Alexander would always do the talking. When she noticed everyone staring, she just quickly added. ‘That’s all, good luck to all of us.’

Sara gave her a quick hug before whispering something in her ear. Sucre gave a high five, and as they were approaching each team’s van, Lincoln’s voice could be heard loud and clear.

‘See you soon, Brie.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

After the rest left, Bellick and Brie went together to a building where, apparently, a secretary, had information regarding T-Bag. Alexander and Michael were waiting downstairs. Neither Brie nor Alexander was on board with the distribution of the pairs, but Bellick needed protection, and at that moment, Brie didn’t look as “agent-y” as before. Sara gave her some makeup to cover her bruises and cuts; she also was wearing loose clothes, and her hair was still in a bun, but much less tight.

They followed the secretary through an endless flight of stairs to a more private place. The minute they started walking, she began to get suspicious, but she decided to follow the woman to investigate more.

‘So Brie… I like your name.’ Unlike Brie, Bellick seemed clueless about the secretary’s intentions.

‘Thanks Bellick.’

‘Oh please, call me Brad in that case… hey, that sounds fun! Brad and Brie on a mission.’ She playfully pushed his arm, gaining a curious look from the secretary. ‘You see… I kinda realized why you call him Alexander.’

‘When you have been living nameless for most of your life, you tend to appreciate having a name.’

‘Gotcha… and more if that’s a special one for you… I think you two are the bravest people I know. I don’t know if I’d have done the same thing that Alex did… or you did… As a CO, I was really comfortable knowing that the bad guys were already inside… so not that much.’

‘Bravery is a spectrum, Brad. It’s different for everyone. You are here, alive. Remember how your life was a couple of months ago.’

There was a tiny door at the end of the hallway. They were probably at the top of a building for the amount of walking. Before she could tell Brad to stop and go back, she felt the distinct sensation of a cold muzzle pressed on the nape of her neck. Next, a phone was placed in her hand.

‘Call them, let’s have a family reunion up here.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

‘What the hell’s taking them so long?’ As if on cue, Michael’s phone started ringing. ‘Michael is such a lovely day for a reunion with Miss Trishanne… who wants more money for her information. Maybe we can discuss it over a cup of coffee… I saw a Washington-style cold brew shop a few blocks from here… come and join us.’

Alexander exited the van before Michael could ask him about the weird message. Despite being slightly taller than Alexander, he had trouble catching up.

‘I know a comment about the weather is because someone else is hearing the conversation… but I don’t understand the rest; where are we going, Alex?’

‘Washington is the state more at the north in line with California, so they are on top of this building. Coffee means danger, and if it is cold brew… there are guns involved. In other words…’

‘It’s a trap.’

At the other side of the door was a van with Brie, Bellick, and Trishanne outside. None of them were moving. Alexander kept staring at Brie, trying to decipher what was the danger she was referring to. He didn’t have to wait long.

‘Believe it.’ T-Bag himself emerged from the other side of the van, pointing at Michael and Alexander with a gun. ‘Let’s go for a ride, shall we? Come on.’ He said, motioning to Trishanne. ‘ Tie them up.’

‘Why don’t we skip the theatrics, and you just tell us what you want?’ Michael said as Trishanne was placing safety straps around everyone’s wrists.

‘I’d love to put a hole right in your head. Come on! Tie them up! And let’s all get in the van!’

Alexander kept staring at Brie. ‘Come on, Mahone! Or I will have to go all the way Alabama with you, and you won’t like it!’ As soon as those words left T-Bag’s mouth, their eyes lightened. Alabama. It was a risk given that she was injured, and they couldn’t count on their hands. But it was worth the shot. Plus, T-Bag was the only one with a gun. Yes, he was a psychopath and a dangerous criminal, but there was just one gun. Alexander started walking towards the van, waiting for the right moment. It all happened in slow motion: T-Bag turned to threaten Michael and Bellick for five seconds. Five seconds gave Brie and Alexander the advantage to run to the edge of the building and jump the small wall. As they were falling, the screams and the bullets from T-Bag’s gun could be heard at a distance. A container broke their fall. He immediately noticed that it had done more damage to her already damaged body, but they didn’t have time to stop. T-Bag kept screaming. He guided her to an aisle, brought her down, and acted as her human shield for a few seconds, which felt like hours. Until he couldn’t hear any more gunshots or screams, he let her go. Okay, maybe he stayed there a little longer than necessary.

‘Brie, are you okay?’

‘I’m fine. God, I hate that guy.’

‘Me too… That Alabama mission was crazy, though… I’d almost forgotten about that one.’

‘It was dying from a crossfire, from carbon monoxide poisoning, or from jumping out of the building… this one wasn’t that tall.’

‘Nicer times… we need to find Self.’

‘Hopefully, he won’t find the ankle monitor before we get to his location. Let’s go.’

‘Brie… you are not okay… you are limping…’

‘Well… I suppose that’s the reason why they tell you you need to wait for the glue to dry before using the object again… Don’t say, “I told you so.”’

‘I wasn’t planning to… come on, piggyback.’

‘Hell no.’

‘I am not leaving you here; you clearly can’t run that fast.’

‘It’s embarrassing.’

‘Said the person who has carried me in that way more times than I can count.’

‘Just ten times… and fine.’

He delicately placed her on his back, holding tightly her legs. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, but he could swear that she was hugging him from behind at some point.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

They arrived too late. The apartment Self’s GPS indicated welcomed them with Brad’s and Michael’s ankle monitors on the table, luckily, without the ankles. Brie started cursing under her breath. If it weren’t for her stupid injuries, they could have made it on time, killed T-Bag, and returned with the famous bird book. It was stupid.

‘Hey, don’t blame yourself. T-Bag is smart; he was going to find out, eventually.’

His words made her go back to Oswego and the cemetery. When Michael was the enemy they needed to find and not the friend (?) they needed to find. When she froze, he told her it wasn’t her fault. To keep going. He had the same look. He was telling the truth.

‘Let’s keep going, then.’

‘Back to what we do best.’ There was a tiny, almost imperceptible smile. ‘Michael is also smart; he surely left something for us.’

‘I think I know what that is.’

Under a chair, there was a tiny origami figure resembling a swan. Michael used them in his plans and whenever he wanted to communicate with someone. It was a piece of the bird book, a corner with a single word written on it: GATE.

‘What does GATE mean?’ Brie held the piece of paper against the light to see if something else was hidden.

‘I think I saw an advertisement somewhere… it’s like a sales company.’

‘Or a façade for the Company… I mean, if it was in Whistler’s book.’

‘Brie… you are brilliant.’

It turns out Michael kept throwing them clues here and there to move around the GATE building without being noticed. The apparently innocent company had a whole system of tunnels and passages hidden underneath a trap door in an office’s closet. As they approached, the strident sound of T-Bag’s voice let them know they were in the right place. And even better, he was not facing in their direction. Slowly, Brie and Alexander approached, their coordination still intact. T-Bag received the impact of two hard kicks on the lower back, followed by Alexander shoving him into a cage that closed from the outside. Of course, T-Bag kept screaming.

‘Self’s on his way… we received your message.’

‘Thank you guys.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Alexander knew that look. A mysterious person called them when they left the GATE building and reunited with Self. Michael took over the phone and froze. That someone on the other side of the line caused him enough damage to break him. Alexander instinctively placed himself before Brie; they didn’t know if the caller was watching them. Brie looked at him with a confused expression, her wrinkle appearing instantly. She clearly was not used to being on that side. Michael and Self sent them back with no more explanation. In other situation, they’d demand an answer, but they trusted Michael now. Whatever was happening, they needed to be prepared.

‘How’s your foot?’

‘Better, I think. I need to take it easy for at least a couple of days, but right now…’

‘Nothing is easy these days.’

As expected, the news was just bad news. Lately, everything was bad news. Gretchen was alive and working with T-Bag. They planned the kidnapping to make Michael decipher what Whistler had written in his book, which was a blueprint of GATE and the Company headquarters. Gretchen had another set of pages that’d give them more information, and she’d only hand them if the team agreed to work with her. It was all messed up.

Additionally, the Vegas team had managed to get the fifth card, and this would be good news if it weren’t for Ronald’s addiction to money, which got them in trouble and forced them to leave the device behind. Therefore, the only way to get the last card was to steal it from the last cardholder: General Krantz, the leader of the Company. If that wasn’t enough, Lincoln created a strategy involving a car crash involving paramedics and simulated chaos to get it. The collision would be between the general and two cars driven by Lincoln and Brie. They were the best drivers they had, but the probability of something going wrong was high, and in the case of Brie, she was not fully healed.

On top of everything, the mission and the race for the cards had driven him away from his actual mission: since his fight with Brie, there has been no sign of Wyatt, making Cameron’s case colder each day. He was starting to lose it again. For the car crash, they had stolen an ambulance where Sara and Bellick would drug the General while they looked for the card. Inside, he found a bottle of Midazolam. One pill and all of his problems would go away; he would be in his safe place, underwater, while the rest of the world wasted their time going way too fast… two pills and he would have a decent night of sleep for the first time in months… the entire bottle and he would see his son again.

‘What are you doing?’ There she was. Brie and her perfect timing.

‘Nothing… I was just.’

‘What do you have in your hand, Alexander?’

He slowly placed the bottle on the gurney beside him and sat down. He brought his hands to his face; Brie's disappointed look would be the only thing left to happen in his misery.

‘Alexander, look at me.’

He felt her pulling his hands off his face, and he didn’t offer any resistance. He expected a slap or a scold next. Instead, her emerald eyes met his ocean of despair, with no trace of hate, disappointment, or anger. She was close to him: not enough for him to feel her again, but enough to admire her. God, she is gorgeous. Between Panama and LA, her cheeks were adorned with freckles. Cameron would have commented that Miss Brie had stars on her face, and he would have agreed. Her hair was in a loose ponytail and looked incredibly soft; he was tempted to touch it, but that may lead to other things, and he wasn’t sure they were there yet.

‘We are going to find him… he won’t win.’

‘The waiting is killing me, Brie. That’s the only thing that keeps me going, and I feel like I’m running out of time.’

‘We found Shales… and Michael, and Whistler, now T-Bag. We can do this. Not for nothing, we stopped the card search to get you out of jail. We are going to help you. Lincoln told you he was going to help you, and one month ago, he was going to beat the shit out of you. We will do our best, and it’s going to be enough. For Cam.’

‘That’s the other thing; I feel like you are the only one who at least made progress on getting Wyatt… I just stood there, frozen, while you almost died in the process. I’m failing big time. And I feel like I will lose you in the process.’

‘You said it yourself. Almost. I am still here. And you were the one that taught me to try again whenever I failed the first time.’ Somehow, she always knew what to say. She pulled back immediately as the ambulance doors opened suddenly.

‘Oh hey, you are here. It’s almost time to go.’ Lincoln had that sneaky look he would often have whenever he talked with his brother and Sara.

‘Which car am I using?’

‘Actually, Brie, I think it’d be better if we only use one… I’ll ride with Sucre. You can stay in the other car with Alex for vigilance.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes… we didn’t have time to practice, and I don’t want to put anyone at unnecessary risk. If we get in trouble, you two can catch up with us. You know the route we will follow, and I trust your driving instincts… and Alex? As soon as we get back, we three are going for that son of a bitch.’ He didn’t know if Lincoln had heard their conversation, but it didn’t matter at that point. He threw the Midazolam bottle in the trash.

A few hours later, he felt like his heart would escape from his chest, but for other reasons: the plan failed, and somehow, the General turned around from his usual trajectory, ruining everything. Linc and Sucre’s car was chased down by none other than Wyatt, who left the latter in a bad condition. Luckily for him, Sara knew how to treat gunshot wounds.

He fucking hated himself. He froze once again. Brie could have been in that car… and he would have just stared as Wyatt shot her (again). They were in the car, just watching. He had snatched the keys from her and placed his arm protectively over her. He knew she was saying something to him and fighting his grip, but he couldn’t listen. He couldn’t move. Once again, someone was hurt, and Wyatt escaped.

He felt Brie’s hand next to his, touching him, probably trying to get rid of his grip to do something. He grabbed her hand like it was the end of the world, and she immediately interlaced her fingers with him, understanding. It was an automatic reaction, or so he says, but next, he knew he was kissing the back of her hand and handing her the keys again. He needed a little bit of courage for what was coming.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

To say that he didn’t feel the shivers down his spine as she told a story he also knew would be a lie. But he barely had any emotions left, unlike her. Of course, he remembered the beatings, the training, the cemeteries… The scar on the nape of his neck still read “OS,” and he could bet hers was also there. But she chose to run from that; she was the coward one, the weak one, the one who ruined the family…

Katalyma was his home. The place that made him valuable and took all those stupid feelings that made him inferior. And she ruined everything. The few ones that managed to escape were also after her, so if he didn’t kill her, someone else would. But he was determined to be him. It was a God’s sign when he received the message from “Roland,” asking for money in exchange for the brothers. And the brothers would lead him to Jones. That was her fucking name, despite the things she kept saying.

He wanted revenge. He needed revenge. He owed it to Shales. He would be so proud. The reward for destroying the evil that possessed Jones would be greater than any mortal could imagine. He would make her see her beloved Mahone die, and then he would place a bullet in her skull. He was ready. He made sure to bring Shales’ old gun with him as he left for his encounter with Roland.

Chapter Text

"If you want me to, I will"

“Bravery was a spectrum,” that’s what she’d told him. But Brad Bellick was a man who had lived many lives, and in most of them, he had made bad decisions repeatedly. He felt infinitely inferior to his peers: Michael and Alex were the geniuses; Lincoln and Brie were the ones who got the physical job done; Sara was the one who kept everyone safe; Roland was the computer genius; and now that Sucre got shot, he had become a hero. What did Bellick provide to the team? He didn’t know.

The only thing that had saved him from going from Sona to Fox River was that Sucre told Michael that he had helped him back in Panama. So, he was not there as an essential tool but as a favor. He felt he hadn’t done anything valuable, just small things anyone could do. On top of that, he had a strange feeling in his chest: guilt combined with shame and something else. Maybe it was the realization that his redemption was nothing worthy to write about.

‘I have a bad feeling about this.’

‘I’m the one on point. You’re in the ambulance. Why are you so worried?’ Sucre was fixing something in the car he and Lincoln would use. His face didn’t show any sign of genuine concern.

‘I just got a feeling…’

‘You have me and Linc, and Alex and Brie as protection. It’s gonna be one of us before something happens to you, papi.’

‘Sucre is right, Brad. But if it makes you feel more comfortable, if I see them targeting the ambulance, I’ll draw the attention to us instead.’ Brie was next to them, checking the pressure of her car’s wheels. He knew it wasn’t their intention, but their words made him feel more useless.

‘Sucre… can you bring me the cross spanner? I think Alexander has it.’

‘Sure, be right back.’

When Sucre left the room, she motioned for him to sit next to her. ‘I know that look. What’s going on, Brad?’

‘I know we talked about bravery… and how it looked different for everyone… but I’m so sick of feeling useless, you know? And things are becoming more complicated and scary… And I don’t think I have what it takes.’

‘Brad…’

‘It’s true! I mean, if in the future people would write the story about the inmates that saved the world, maybe I’ll get a quick mention, but they are going to care more about Michael, Linc, Alex, Sara… you… everyone else! I might be a footnote.’

‘Footnotes often make a book better, Brad.’

Brad left out a small chuckle. ‘I don’t know why you have been so nice to me.’

‘I’m not that nice, Brad; I’m compensating.’

‘Whatever you call it… I’m glad I got to know you… And because of that, I need you to do me a favour… If anything should happen, call my mom in Chicago.’

‘Brad.’

‘Tell her I didn’t die like a damn convict locked up in some penitentiary.’

‘Nothing’s gonna happen.’

‘Brie… please… I need you to promise.’

‘Fine… I promise.’

‘And Brie?’

‘Thank you for being my friend.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sara was not okay. She often wondered if she could ever be a doctor again after everything that happened. But somehow, all those years of studying and practicing were imprinted in her memory, and her hands knew exactly what she needed to do even if her brain was elsewhere. Sucre was bleeding. Not in a dangerous way, but blood was always messy. After removing the bullet fragments, she started working on doing the stitches, her second time in less than a week.

Her mind kept going back and forth: Brie bleeding, Sucre bleeding, the woman that helped her escape from Gretchen bleeding… The scars in her back emulated a maze, an intricate path that led directly to her worst nightmares. There was a whole box of morphine in the ambulance. She had found it right away. After Michael and the Fox River’s Eight escaped that night, she had an overdose of her lethal companion. She thought that would be the worst pain she’d ever feel in her life.

She thought about doing it. She really did. But after finding the brand-new Midazolam bottle in the trash can, she decided to hold on for a little longer. They were all suffering in many ways. Of course, it wasn’t a competition, but Alex did lose a kid and basically his whole life (wife, work, money, house…), and he has remained sober. But it was hard: every day, something new happened that drew her closer to her limit.

Gretchen wanted to see her. Her motives were unknown, but she explicitly told Self that they needed to get the record straight before starting to work together. Sara was not buying it. Like the rest of the team, she was not on board with accepting Gretchen’s and T-Bag’s help; their sudden alliance offer made everyone raise an eyebrow, especially considering how loyal Gretchen was to the General. She didn’t know what to do, but she knew she didn’t want to do it alone. And there was just one person who could give her reassurance and physical protection.

‘Hey, I need a favor’

‘Of course, what do you need?’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Everyone in that warehouse was a nervous wreck. But Alexander was definitely the worst of them all. Wyatt had shot Sucre (not fatally, thank God), and it was just a matter of time before they faced each other again. Brie was healing slowly: she insisted that she was okay and ready to go after him, but her eyes didn’t lie. She had returned to her bed (much to Alexander’s dismay), and every night he could see her struggling a little bit while climbing.

Many things were happening at the same time, and he was overwhelmed. He was not paying attention to whatever Sucre told him, so he excused himself and went for a walk. The ocean was calling him: he would always make the analogy that the sea was a big mess, yet the ancient sailors figured out a way to unravel the mystery.

He used to have a boat, but it was never his to begin with: Cameron was the one who could reveal all the messages from the stars; Pam was like the wind, controlling his willingness to advance or remain in calm waters; and Brie had the gift to know where they were going, always there to point at the right direction. He lacked control of the helm, too comfortable (or maybe too scared) to make his own decisions. Until he lost everything and became a castaway, sailing adrift.

He was starting to give up. It was useless trying to sail without a celestial map or a compass. Deep inside, he just wished it could be all over: he wanted to become a part of the ocean, the mess he could never escape, and enter Charybdis’ jaws as quickly as possible. But every night, the stars shone above his head, reminding him of his mission and his promise to the kid who loved the space so much that he became one with it.

‘I knew I could find you in here.’ Maybe he didn’t have to sail alone. Perhaps the tide had been benevolent and had given him back his lost compass.

‘Cameron hated the sand when we were on vacation here.’

‘He was one year old, pretty sure it’s uncomfortable to have your diaper full of sand.’

‘And remember when he would only eat your mashed potatoes?’

‘I don’t know why he liked it… It wasn’t that special…’

‘And remember when he started walking?’

‘I had to use my suspenders as a baby bouncer to prevent him from wandering around… what’s going on, Alexander?’

‘I miss him.’

‘I know… I miss him too.’

‘I cannot hold on anymore, Brie… He took away the only good part of me. Every moment that passes and he’s not dead…’

‘He won't get away with it… We are close to getting Scylla, the Company, the General, and Mathewson… I wish I could tell you something more encouraging, but… I won’t give up until Cameron has justice, and neither can you.’

The waves repeated their melody over and over. A perfect soundtrack that filled the silence between them. It was like the old times. Her hair was once again in a tight bun, but she was wearing a white short-sleeved blouse. She was standing to his left, staring at the ocean. Like Cameron, she had hated the beach the first time she was there: they were on a mission on Virginia, and they needed to interrogate some folks at the beach. He remembered that he was worried that the heat and humidity could affect her mood (which they did). Once they were there, she had stopped in her tracks to stare at the water; her face didn’t show a scowl like he was expecting. Curiosity was all over her face, and she seemed enchanted by the body of water. Before he could ask her if she was okay, she brought her hand to her hair, undoing her bun; her hair floated in a disorderly fashion, forming figures in the wind while her eyes were closed.

He felt a sudden urge to watch that scene again. Luckily for him, it was a windy day. He gently placed his hand in her bun, undoing it with his fingers. At last, he was achieving his fantasy of caressing her hair. Against all odds, she let him. Her long hair started dancing again, and he was enchanted by it. Her green eyes were suddenly watching his, unreadable to everyone else, still quite intriguing for him. They could spend hours like this. The moment was interrupted by the muffled voice from the radio attached to her waist.

“Brie, where are you? It’s almost time.”

‘What was that?’

‘Sara asked if I could go with her to meet Gretchen… We are not really sure what her intentions are so…’

‘Brie, Gretchen is dangerous… it may be a trap… and you are not healed at 100%’

‘Even with that I’m stronger than Sara and stronger than her… I’ll be fine…’

‘Brie…’

‘Alexander, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself if I don’t go and something happens to Sara.’

‘And I won’t forgive myself if something happens to you.’

‘I… I appreciate what you’ve been doing for me, but I’m not a baby, I can take care of myself; I have been doing that all my life.’

‘I made a promise… I am not letting you expose yourself like that again.’

‘I want to do it and I will do it, Sara is my friend, Alexander. I’m not asking you for permission!’

‘Why can’t you understand that I cannot fucking lose you?! Every fucking day I am worried that you are going to die in this stupid Scylla quest! And I can’t lose you, Brie, I just can’t! What if Gretchen tries to kill both of you? What if Wyatt comes and you are not here?’

‘I’m pretty sure Lincoln and the rest could help you with Wyatt, Alexander-‘

‘You know that’s not what I mean! I am lost without you, Brie. I want to do everything in my power to keep you safe because I cannot lose you! Because I love you and-‘

‘Alexander… Don’t say that, don’t start with that…’

‘Everything ok?’ Lincoln had definitely heard their conversation and was looking at them back and forth with intrigue on his face.

‘What’s going on, Lincoln?’

‘We cannot find Roland… he cut his ankle monitor, but Michael placed a tracker in his computer; he’s somewhere near... we don’t know why he ran… I understand you are going with Sara, so Alex, we need you.’

‘You better get going, keep me posted, please. We’ll talk later, Alexander…’

She could have run from the scene, but there was some pride inside her, so she walked into the warehouse to meet Sara. It was just a matter of time before she’d hear those three words again. There had been obvious signs: him sleeping on the floor next to her, bringing her food, kissing her hand the other day… She knew about his feelings; he had repeated that sentence over and over again. It was overwhelming, especially since she wasn’t sure of anything anymore. She had told him that as soon as Mathewson was dead and the Scylla thing was over, she’d go away. She still wanted to run and hide from the world, but God, the human connections she had created over the last couple of days felt so good. She had Sara and Brad now, and slowly she was connecting with the rest. And Alexander… that man was going to be the death of her.

‘Are you nervous?’ Sara had been talking all the way from the warehouse to the motel where they were supposed to meet Gretchen. Half of the time, Brie reassured her, and the other half, her mind tormented her with Alexander’s pleading eyes.

‘Not really, I brought a gun and a knife… do you want me to stay in the room with you?’

‘Yes, please, maybe at the door? I am sorry, I don’t know how these things work…’

‘Not a problem… Can I ask why you didn’t ask Michael to join you?’

‘I’m… worried about him.’

‘Worried? What do you mean?’

‘You cannot tell this to anyone, not even Alex.’

‘Okay?’

‘Michael has been having nosebleeds… and I am afraid that’s the first symptom of a brain tumour.’

‘Woah, I am not a doctor, but I think that from a nosebleed to a brain tumor there is quite a long distance.’

‘His mother died from a brain tumor, and Lincoln says that it all started like that.’

‘Oh…’

‘I want to keep an eye on him, but he is stubborn; he wants to keep going with the mission, but as soon as the most dangerous symptoms begin to show… I cannot lose him. We cannot lose him… are you ready?’

She wanted to say her presence there was helpful, but she would be lying. First, Sara had more rage and hate inside than Brie had expected. Gretchen told her that she had 5 minutes to do whatever she wanted to with her to make things even and start working together without feelings of revenge. At first, Sara was doubtful, and even wasted some time talking with Gretchen about their time in Panama. But then, after Gretchen refused to give her the name of the woman who saved her life, things became personal. She took the knife and made a light but clean cut in Gretchen’s neck. The three women stared at each other, shocked at the action.

Brie wanted to intervene somehow, but Sara’s and Alexander’s words kept circling in her head, preventing her from doing something else. Being looked after was something new for her, a love form she wasn’t familiar with. All her life had been about protecting herself and others; that type of attention used to mean weakness. She felt weird accepting it and didn’t know how to process it. Her first instinct was to shut down Alexander, even if she knew she was not okay at 100%. But Sara’s genuine concern for Michael matched Alexander’s tone from earlier, so she began doubting if something was wrong with her. What if she were incapable of receiving love? What if that was a ship long gone for her? Should she give up or…

‘Brie? It’s Alex, we need to go back. They have Wyatt.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He heard the gunshots before anyone else. Two. It could indeed be anyone, but his mind was automatically locked in one thought whenever two gunshots were shot together. The knot in his stomach became tighter, and he was sure his teeth would break under his jaw’s pressure. He turned to his left, trying to ease his anxiety. But she wasn’t there. A part of him was terrified of going after Wyatt without Brie: he remembered how lethal and dangerous she was when he first met her, when Shales still had some control over her. Wyatt was still like that, maybe worse. But the other part of him was full of rage: pain was driving him insane, and he was ready to destroy him as soon as he was close enough.

Michael still believed in the best in people, and Roland had been no exception. They all “grounded” him when he returned from Vegas for losing the device, and it was decided that he was no longer part of the team. He was pissed at this decision, and Alexander knew better than anyone that greed and angerness were a dangerous combination. Unless Self had betrayed them or any of them had a microphone inside, Roland was the only person who knew about the car crash plan and was not participating in it. Also, the post-it with Wyatt's phone number had mysteriously disappeared from his room. Connecting the dots had never been easier.

He was the first one to get there. Wyatt was looking at Roland, who was on the floor, agonizing. He had shot him in his kneecaps, one of the most painful and slowest deaths. He felt the fire building up inside of him. He was so close. He didn’t feel Lincoln’s arm trying to stop him. To be honest, nothing could.

He charged for his head first. It was a risky move because with his hate-powered strength, he might as well have killed him on the spot. But he didn’t. People were screaming behind him, but the only thing he was able to hear was the sound of his fists against his skin, over and over again.

‘Enough! You’ll get your shot. Now back off!’ Lincoln was trying to contain him, but it was useless. ‘You’ll get your shot, man!’ Sucre and Bellick were holding him, grabbing his legs and torso, pulling him away from him. Ironically, he was offering more resistance than Wyatt.

‘You have to let me go! Let me do it!’

‘Alex! Slow down! Not here… we need to take him to the warehouse. Then we’ll give you your space… I promise.’ Lincoln’s voice was surprisingly calm. He was trying to mimic Brie’s voice pattern, the one he had noticed that she used with Alex to calm him down. And at the same time, he wasn’t calm at all. He had made a promise.

Wyatt was on the floor. Alexander’s attack came suddenly, and he had received several blows to the head. He was dizzy but overall okay. He just needed to wait for the perfect moment to escape: they had taken his gun and phone, and with Mahone’s craziness, he knew it was the wise move to do. Unknown to him, Lincoln was watching him closely. ‘Hey son of a bitch!’ He had used his gun, or rather, Shales’ gun. A single blow to the temple. ‘I am also a dad you asshat!’

Alexander was only able to relax a little bit once he saw Brie entering the warehouse. Wyatt was still unconscious and was tied up in a chair and inside a cage. Per Self's orders, he was holding the stairs on the other side of the room; they couldn’t risk Alexander killing him before they could get any information. Brie understood and immediately went to sit next to him, her hand on his lower back, tracing circles. The time had come.

Chapter Text

"You can set me any task..."

The first thing he saw when he woke up was a vision in white. That's how he knew he was still unconscious. A part of him always thought it was ridiculous to keep wearing the white clothes in wintertime, especially in Ann Arbor. But lately, the punishments had been very hard, and Jones had taken the blame twice for him already, so he had to be careful with his actions. The snow kept falling every night. Mr. Shales convinced almost all his brothers and sisters that it was Manna, like in the Old Testament, and that it was a nutritious food. After doing rounds with Jones, he learned that it was just water. No wonder he was hungry.

Despite being three years older than her, she always felt like a big sister. In the mysterious and hidden part of his memory that Burrows' gun had unlocked, he could see both teenagers, 14 and 17, walking on the streets at night. Jones had found an old potato sack and had placed it over his shoulders to protect him from the cold. If Shales found out, they would be in trouble. The rules were that, in social environments, white and only white was the norm.

He barely remembered that conversation when Jones taught him how to read the clock. She was very smart. And kind. Smart and kind were not a good combination. Shales would always say that it was a weakness, that the world was cruel and would take advantage of them if they showed even a small sign of that. Her fall was the beginning of his rise. Despite being the best assassin, the most bloodthirsty of them all, there was something peculiar in her that everyone in the army noticed. He was sure that Shales also saw it but refused to acknowledge it. Because everyone knew that if you wanted to learn how to read, you'd go with Jones; if you had a wound, you'd go with Jones; if you did something terrible, Jones could take the blame for you; if you needed someone, you'd go with Jones.

All that was done in secret: as soon as they were under Shales' vigilant eyes, their mood switched, even Jones'. But as always, there were leaks of information, blackmailing, temptation... He remembered that when he started looking more like a man than a child, Shales called him to praise his advances in the training, even if they both knew that his level was not even close to Jones. He called him a strong fighter. He started expressing his disappointment towards Jones, and how he would be a better leader now that he didn't have any distractions. And by that he meant his mother.

Ma. It's been a while since he'd thought about her. He felt his blood boiling, almost enough to wake him up. She was the cause of his failures, and that he was labelled as the weakest one once. The sickness that consumed her body prevented him from achieving the greatness Shales expected. Her last days were a breath of fresh air, and he was glad he never bothered to show up for those moments. But one person did.

He took advantage of Jones taking care of his dying mother to become better, to close his mind to all those distractions, and to convince the rest that all those favors Jones did for them were preventing them from reaching their maximum potential. It took some time because even with those "qualities," Jones was better than the rest. But it backfired when everyone realized that if they let go of that part of them that made them weak, they would find enlightenment like Mathewson.

He could pinpoint the exact moment in which those two teenagers became strangers. And he never cared until today. The more he watched, the more he realized that there was a hint of a curvature in his lips. Something that he had forgotten he used to have: a smile. Jones' green eyes were a warm flame, illuminating that cold winter. And the only thing that used to make him that he was not alone in this fucking world. When he woke up, the same eyes, alongside two blue ones, watched him at a distance. The flame was now a fire, and the person behind them was an explosion.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

She didn't know if she was controlling him or if he was controlling her. Either way, none of them could wait any longer. She almost laughed when she remembered that she once thought she felt enraged at Alexander; the thing she was feeling right now made that look like a simple misunderstanding. Despite this, she was still lucid: Alexander was there and at the same time, he was lost in a sea of revenge, his gaze fixed upon Wyatt. His ocean eyes were darkened and only reflected the agony in his soul. Not even Brie was sure of what he wanted to do.

She could barely hear the conversation on the other side of the room, but she knew the team was discussing what they needed to do with Wyatt before leaving him to Alexander. The consensus was that he needed to call the General and state that they were all dead. The complicated part was that it had to sound real; the General would know immediately if he was not telling the truth. Despite being dehumanized for so long, Shales had trained them to be effective liars, and he could fake being scared even if nothing was happening.

Sara was the chosen one. Alexander had beaten Wyatt badly, and he had some open wounds that needed to be taken care of. Even though everybody, including Sara, wanted him dead, she was still a doctor and had taken an oath. Brie was about to protest, until she noticed the small device she hid in her coat and the audio program that Self discreetly showed her on his computer. After a few minutes, Wyatt's wounds were taken care of, and Sara came out of the cage. Brie couldn't hear exactly what she said to Michael and Self, but she could recognize that expression anywhere. It was the same face she would have after speaking with Shales for a few minutes—a mixture of fear, disgust, and shock.

Alexander was still incredibly tense, barely reacting to her touch and acting like a scared animal, fiercely grabbing the pole next to the stairs. He was suffering, and it was just a matter of time before he would become an unstoppable force. Her hand travelled to his knee, giving him a tiny squeeze before standing up.

'Brad, would you mind keeping an eye on him for a moment? Do not let him stand up.'

Brad placed himself before Alexander, blocking his view. His gaze was still lost and didn't react when Brie left his side. She started walking towards the cage, slowly, with a neutral look on her face. Lincoln immediately stood up and stopped her before she could get any closer.

'Brie, not now.'

'I'm not going to do anything, Lincoln.'

'Can't risk it. Go back with Alex, we are taking care of his confession first, and then you two can do whatever you want.'

'Lincoln, listen to me.' She got closer to him, never taking her eyes off Wyatt, her voice was merely a whisper. 'I can hold on; I don't know how, but I can. You have a time bomb back there... and I can't... I can't...'

'I know. We are almost done. Self just needs to...'

She wasn't listening anymore. Wyatt was looking at her. She remembered the sweetness in his eyes when they were little, and how it gradually disappeared until they became two voids of darkness and hate. They were friends, "siblings" as Shales liked to call his army members. Since she learned that he was Cameron's killer, memories of their past would haunt her at night. To torture her even more, they were good memories: the small happy moments they shared at Bible studies, his mom who took care of her after her mom killed herself, when they were partnered for surveillance rounds... he used to be her favorite person in the world.

'Why did you choose Wyatt?' Silence filled the room. Her tone was not angry or filled with hate. It sounded almost as if she wanted to cry. 'You know why I chose Alexandria; why did you choose Wyatt?'

'It means strong fighter. That's what Shales used to call me.'

'Alexandria means defender of the people. And Brie also means strength.'

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Cameron's picture was on that table. A few feet away from the cage. He had used the washing machine inside and placed it there that morning. He needed to grab it because that bastard didn't have the right to be anywhere where the memory of Cameron still lived. He felt like his eyes were about to come out from their orbs; he couldn't blink, fearing that he would disappear and all of that would mean that it was just a dream.

He felt Brie's hand in his lower back until he didn't. The world had stopped, and the only thing that mattered was not losing sight of what was before him. He tried to ask her where she was going, but nothing came out of his mouth. Bellick was looking at him with a mixture of sadness and worry. He could easily tackle him down and run straight to Wyatt. He just could...

'I know that look, Alex. I know what you are trying to do. And you know that I ain't strong enough to stop you. But Brie asked me to keep you here. I don't know what you two will do, but something inside me tells me you need to trust her.'

Brie.

The only person in that fucking warehouse that got him. He never dared to ask her how her relationship with Wyatt was in the past. He was afraid to ask, to be honest. But he knew that her pain was also palpable, and that a part of her traumatic past was also in front of her. And, unlike him, she was not holding to a pole in a barely human manner, trembling upon the inevitable instinct of murder. Once again, she was the strongest person he knew.

Michael, Lincoln, Sucre, and Bellick were leaving. They had to start working on the plan to get to the final card. They found a way to get into the building, bypassing the security system with the blueprints that Michael recovered from Whistler's book (plus Scofield's brain for engineering stuff). It was extremely dangerous, and it was an all-hands-on-deck situation. He obviously couldn't go with them. He would never know, but Michael's anxiety peaked when he understood that he couldn't count on him or Brie. He would never know, but Lincoln gave him a slight squeeze on his shoulder. He would never know, but Sucre and Bellick said a little prayer on their way to the Company's headquarters for him and Cameron's memory. He would never know.

'Alexander?' Her voice was different. Quiet, soft, even scared. Despite this, he knew she was on her breaking point. He knew her that well. It was almost as if... 'It's time.'

Inside the dark void, it was difficult to see when Self edited Wyatt's conversation with Sara to make it seem as if he had killed everyone at the warehouse. He missed the part when they called the General and immediately bought the fake message. He also didn't notice how Self and Sara left the warehouse quietly, leaving the cage open. He only realized that suddenly, it was just Brie and he. And that bastard.

Something woke up inside of him. His fear, his pain, his depression... all of that made an 180°, giving him the strength to go straight to the ambulance from the failed car crash to get everything he needed. Brie followed him. They worked in silence, in perfect tune. A part of him was scared that all of these would trigger something inside of her, reminding her of her days when she would torture people on a daily basis. But she didn't say anything. After everything was done, he noticed Cameron's picture inside her front pocket.

'My son's autopsy said that he'd been shot twice.' A regular defibrillator can reach 360 joules to restart a human heart. With manipulation, it could reach way more. 'Once in the stomach... why?! Why, man?!' Brie took over the machine's installation. She knew Alexander wanted to do everything, but it was just a matter of time before he lost it again. 'And then, full five minutes later, right in the... You, too, will suffer. And when you can't stand the pain anymore, you'll make a phone call for me. And I want the person on the other side of my call to hear the fear in your voice.'

She didn't say anything. She wasn't even looking at them. Just like in their mission, she let him take the lead. She just had to ensure everything worked, and then she'd step aside. The air was not reaching her lungs, but she said nothing. Alexander was right: the flashbacks were torturing her. She had been in a situation like that before. A very similar one, actually.

'The most sensitive nerve endings are right here.' Alexander was pinning down Wyatt's hand in the latter's tight with one hand, and with the other, he was tracing the tip of his fingertips. 'Opening up the nerve ending in the fingertip even a little pinprick, can result in quite a painful hot flash. So a five-inch needle, being driven up the length of the finger...' He didn't hesitate. The gigantic needle basically disappeared inside Wyatt's finger while he screamed in pain. '... can make your insides feel like they're on fire. Another fact of physiology, the human body, when in extreme duress, begins to shut down until you just can't feel the pain anymore. That's why we have the monitor right here: 'cause when your heart rate dips below 50, Brie is going to give you a little wake-up call. And then you'll feel every ounce of the pain...'

Besides the scream, Wyatt was silent, like he had accepted his fate. If only... 'You said that you changed... yet this is one of the things you'd pull up to get into Shales' bed.'

She wanted to release the fury she had let out a few weeks back when they fought for the first time in years. Her blood was boiling, but the only thing her body was able to do was release tears.

'You mother fucking bastard! DON'T TALK TO HER!' Thank God for someone else's rage.

'You hate me, Alex. But if things were slightly different, she would be in this chair. She'd have pulled the trigger. She wouldn't have hesitated to kill Cameron.'

With a clean punch, Alexander opened his just-healed wounds. 'DON'T LISTEN TO HIM, BRIE!'

'We are the same Jones, we'll always be. No matter how much you want to pretend you're on the "good" side. We are fucking assassins. Evil incarnated for the rest of the mortals... You know the drill... It's not too late for your salvation... Father will take you back.'

Alexander grabbed the pallets and shocked him three times in a row. When he turned around, Brie sat in a corner, hugging her legs. He let the cycle of pain continue for Wyatt while he sat in front of her. He cupped her face, bringing it as close as possible, whispering desperately. 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Brie. Please don't listen to him. You know it's not true. Brie... Brie, listen to me! You are not that! I'm so sorry.'

'You should call Pam.'

Now she was the one in the void. Despite his urgency to take care of her, he knew that she needed some time. Her lost gaze and uncontrollable tears were breaking his heart, but he needed to keep going. After a few more rounds of shocks and pain, he made the dial out.

'Hello?'

'It's me.'

'What's going on?'

'Somebody needs to tell you something.' Alexander slowly placed the phone close to Wyatt's bloody ear.

'Pam... I'm... sorry.'

Now she was the one who didn't notice things. She barely registered the call when all three were suddenly on the docks. The waves were particularly violent that day. Wyatt was handcuffed and had a large block of cement placed on his wrists and ankles. He was standing in a resting position at the very edge.

'You and I, Alex, we are the same. I've done things...'

Seeing his rage building up again made her conscious of what would happen in the following seconds. Before he was able to answer, she intervened. 'Wyatt... It's dark in there. You should turn on a light.'

Some would debate that Wyatt had tears in his eyes from the torture. Others would say they were from realizing his betrayal of the only person he ever loved. That might never be solved as they quickly combined with the ocean, sinking with him. At the surface, two individuals hugged, holding to each other as if the world was ending. Tears were adorning their faces, as Cameron's picture watched them from the floor. Their embrace endured for hours. The only thing that made them look up was the unpredicted meteor shower that adorned the night sky.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Fernando Sucre was born an empath. His Boricua blood made him vivacious, impulsive, happy, and ready to live all experiences fully. When he escaped Fox River, he travelled miles, crossed borders, and broke the law again to return to Maricruz, the love of his life. Along the way, a beautiful girl, Lila Maria Sucre, was born, giving him another reason to fight and get Scylla at all costs.

He was the most readable of the team: you could tell if he was angry or in a good mood. Most of the time, he was the only one in a good mood. More than his strength and fighting skills, his major contribution to the team was that, even to the coldest member (aka Brie), he could bring a sense of comfort and keep the team's morale high. His enthusiasm kept them going in the darkest of times, even if he didn't say a word.

That's why he didn't have to speak to tell Brie that Bellick was dead. They never expected to encounter a giant water pipe blocking the way. They never expected that creating a tunnel would be the only way to get through that. They never expected that placing the metallic part through the central pipe would be a challenging task.

Michael kept going over and over the plan. He should have seen another way. There must have been another way. A way that didn't involve Brad sacrificing himself to place the tunnel correctly. A way in which the violent current didn't leave his body, who knows where...

'That ain't part of the deal!' Lincoln's voice roared through the warehouse. 'You said if anything happened to us, that we'd be returned to next of kin.'

'No, that's not exactly what I said.' Self, uselessly, was trying to calm the team, even after he told them that Brad's body would not have a proper funeral. He was going to be another John Doe. He was about to say something else when Sucre began punching him with all his might. Yes, he was a very sweet man, but also very loyal. If someone even dared to look at his family disrespectfully, they would get to know him. And Brad was his brother.

'Sucre... we need to call his mom.' It was the first time in hours since Brie said a word. Alexander placed himself between Sucre and Self, despite fighting the urge to hug her again.

'If you still want Scylla... Brad Bellick's body goes home to his mother.'

'Okay! Okay! I'll take care of the body. But you guys need to get out of mourning, okay? We need to get back to work.'

Punching him wasn't enough. Fernando wanted to kill him. Maybe that way they could steal his coffin and use it for Brad's funeral. They were going to have a funeral. Brie pressed the numbers, but he did the talking. He didn't want to ask what had happened with Wyatt and Mahone, but it was evident that she couldn't do any more talking that day.

Brie had to leave to stop listening to Ms. Bellick's sobs. She couldn't bear more emotions for that day. That was also why she didn't want to talk with Sara, despite her multiple attempts to approach. She couldn't wait for tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow the pain will be less. Maybe tomorrow she wouldn't hate herself so much.

'Hey.'

'Hey.' Alexander was alone in his room now. He used to share it with Brad and Roland. In less than 48 hours, they were both gone.

'I don't want to have any dreams tonight.'

'Neither do I.'

'Can... can I?'

It's been a long time since they'd been like this. Their embrace from before translated into a profound sleep, where they also didn't let go, and in some indescribable way, they both protected each other from their nightmares. Their hearts beat in synchrony, emulating a clock that prolonged the hours until tomorrow reached a less painful life for both.

Chapter Text

"I'll do anything you ask"

The casket was placed in the middle of the warehouse. There were no floral arrangements, solemn music, a priest, or even an all-black code. But all the people that cared about Brad Bellick (minus his mom in Chicago) were there, and that was the most important thing. Self had managed to recover the body and got someone to dress him up in a tuxedo. He looked peaceful despite his violent death. Fernando led the "ceremony," telling some anecdotes and some of Brad's past. Apart from Sara and Michael, nobody said anything, out loud at least. Death was a sensitive subject, and grief looked different for everyone. Before they closed the casket, Alexander placed a police plaque on his chest that he stole from the Eagles and Angels gala.

Brie wanted to say something, but words were getting stuck in her throat every time she tried to talk. She silently thanked Brad for his friendship, for seeing her as a human being and reminding her that she was one. She wished she had more time with him, getting to know him better, and being in each other's lives in different contexts... Sucre and the rest agreed to give a part of their money to Brad's mom. Maybe she could go on vacation, or buy the house that her son wanted for her.

She was sitting in the dining room, her hands hiding her face. Way too many emotions. She noticed Alexander sitting right next to her, but she didn't bother to look up. His hand travelled through her spine, trying to ease the pain with every touch. She still didn't know what their current situation was, especially after last night, but it felt nice to have that type of trust again. They both needed it.

'Weird question. If you die during this shit, did you put Pam as the contact that would receive your body? Because I put you, so now I realize that if I die, you'll have my body lying around.'

Despite the situation, he let out a small chuckle. 'I... I... put you as my contact.'

'So if we both die...'

'We are going to be stuck together in this warehouse. Side by side.'

'Wouldn't that be nice?'

'It would be scary... speaking of scary... Self has been very insistent on us handling you-know-what.'

'Do you want to do it right now?'

'Why not? Let's close this shit.'

The cage was behind them. Self told them that they had to clean up the mess they left there, mainly because it was disturbing to the others and also because it could be used against them if the government were to find the warehouse and Self's secret plan. Brie stood up first and entered the cage; she now realized how small it was, and how big and solitary it seemed when Wyatt and they were inside. Alexander arrived some minutes later, after gathering the cleaning supplies.

Her mind couldn't stop thinking. She didn't want to think about the past, so she started wondering about the future. Alexander and she had been very disconnected from the mission, to the point that they needed to create a timeline of everything the other people had done to keep up. They were going to break into the place where the Company had Scylla that day: the cardholders and the General realized that Scylla was in danger, and they needed to move its location as soon as possible. Michael was going to get the blueprints from the original designer, as they had an encrypted code that none of them could decipher. In the meantime, everyone but Sara and Self would start digging in a race against time.

Michael said that he needed to talk to them because they played vital roles in the next part of his plan, and also because he needed more minds to confirm that he was making the right decision. She couldn't stop the guilty feelings after he said that. Maybe if the three of them had been there, they could have found a way to get through the water pipe, and Brad wouldn't be dead.

'Brie?'

For fuck's sake, she had started crying again. She swore to protect Cameron, and now he was dead. She promised Brad that nothing would happen to him, and now he was dead. It seemed as if the more she tried to get rid of her "professional assassin" label, the more people died around her. Alexander was kneeling facing the wall. She was staring at his back, not a good place to confirm that he was breathing, but she could see that he was alive. Her feelings were difficult to define at this point, but she couldn't deny that she was terrified of him dying. Was that love? Or fear of being alone? Or...

'Brie, look.' In her anxiety, she didn't notice that Alexander was staring at a piece of paper. 'I found it under the chair... Unless someone here is more connected than we thought, my best guess is that it's Wyatt's.'

It was Wyatt's. She recognized the handwriting, after all, she was the one who taught him how to write. It was very small, almost unnoticeable. Maybe he left it on purpose. Perhaps it was an accident. Four simple words and a phone number were enough to send shivers down her spine:

"Kristine and Paul Kellerman"

'I thought Paul Kellerman was dead. I remember Kim saying that.'

'Alexander...'

'I mean, he was working indirectly for the Company; he was more involved with President Reynolds... why is he important now?'

'Alexander... Kristine Kellerman helped me escape when I was trapped at the courthouse bathroom... Wyatt was there... What if he saw that and went after her?'

'I mean... It's possible... what's your relationship with Kristine Kellerman? Why did she help you?'

'I don't know... she just did. It was weird for me too... But all I know is that I won't be able to handle it if more people die because of me, Alexander.'

'You are over-punishing yourself... maybe it's nothing.'

'It's never nothing with those people, Alexander.'

'Okay... what do you want to do?'

'Maybe we could call... I don't know. Alexander, I'm terrified.'

A loud noise and screams startled them, causing them to turn to the other side of the room. Michael was on the floor, unconscious. He was looking thinner and paler lately, and while everyone assumed that it was related to the stress that came with leading a suicidal mission, Brie (and Sara and Lincoln) knew that it was more serious than it seemed. Sara immediately rushed to his side and started taking his vitals. He was still breathing, but nothing had broken his fall, so there was a risk of head trauma.

Panic was filling the atmosphere: Michael was their leader, the only one who knew what to do every single time. Without him, they were lost. Sara and Lincoln placed him in the back of the car; she was going to get him to the hospital. Despite everything that involved going to a very public place, the necessity for a CT scan outweighed the danger.

'Alexander?'

'Yes?'

'Should I remind you that you used to lead FBI operations?'

'Brie, I don't think I can...'

'Well, you must. I'm not a leader, nor is Sucre. Lincoln is way too altered to think straight. Michael's health is a priority, yes, but if we don't start with the plan today...'

'They will move Scylla... okay, listen up, everybody! Sara, take Michael to the hospital and keep us updated, please. Sucre and Lincoln, begin with the plan; we cannot wait any longer. Brie and I will go to the architect's house to decipher the blueprints...' He turned to see Brie's expression, back in the old days. She gave him a nod of approval, meaning he didn't miss anything. 'Good luck, everybody.'

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He would be lying if he said that he didn't enjoy being in charge. Growing up in the shadows, trying to make a name after himself, made him a sucker for the spotlight. He missed that about the FBI, although he wasn't sure if he missed the job itself. Michael and Sara were in a vulnerable position, and he, along with the rest, needed to accept the possibility that they might not come back if they were discovered. Brie was driving, a pocket knife in her suspenders and a gun on her right side. It was like any other day at the office, and yet it felt so distant and different.

'We are here.'

Michael, Brie, and he were pretty good at deciphering encoded stuff, but David Baker, former architect for the Company, created elaborate symbols that none of them understood. At first glance, the house looked normal, but upon closer inspection, a high-tech security system and bulletproof glass were visible. The man may be retired from the Company, but he knew perfectly well what they were capable of. He was about to open Brie's door for her when she lowered the window.

'Hey, do you mind if I stay? I can cover you from here, I have a rifle, and I can drive if you need to escape...'

'Are you okay?'

'I know that our main focus has to be Scylla... and Michael... but I need to call Kristine Kellerman, and there is a payphone over there...'

'Don't worry... I can handle an architect. You do that.'

'I'll stay by my radio if you need anything, okay?'

'Okay...' He gave her a soft smile and a gentle squeeze of her hand. It wasn't like before: Brie's vulnerability used to be reserved for the bedroom. He remembered that once, for her birthday, she only wanted a small hug. Now, she was letting her emotions show. The great sadness that had narrated her life was more evident than ever, and even with that, she was capable of being the strongest person he knew. And he was going to be there for as long as she let him.

David Baker looked like your regular nerd. When he entered his house, he was nose-deep in a model that reproduced a utopic city which wouldn't rely on outside sources. He spoke a little too fast and wouldn't look at Alexander for more than five seconds. As weird as he was, it was clear to Alexander that he was a genius, almost like Michael. It became more evident when, after only five minutes, Baker figured out that he was not Company. He was expecting his reluctance to his petition, and he was doing his best to convince him without bringing up Cameron. He couldn't risk the architect being a double agent.

"Alexander. They are here."

Brie's voice on the radio was enough to make the man in front of him turn pale. He turned on his radio to ask Brie for more information, but Baker immediately brought him to the floor: two men were approaching from the backyard. Noises coming from the house alerted them that they were surrounded.

'What do they want from me?'

'They are moving Scylla, protecting it. Everything you did for them, they want you to do it again.'

'You think you can stop them? I know all about you. About your son, your wife... I am honestly surprised not to see your right hand here, you know? I've known about you for six months. Ever since somebody stole those plans from the Company, it will never work. You won't get past the first wall.'

"They are approaching. You are surrounded, Alexander. You need to go now! Northeast!"

'Please... don't tell them.'

He looked at Baker for the last time. He had failed. He started running in the direction that Brie indicated, without the secret code or something that might help them. He kept running. There was a big cliff a few feet away: a dead end. He could see the road and the car, but not Brie in it. Where the hell was she? A jump from that height could kill him, and just looking down made his heart sink. He hated heights. He was about to turn when he noticed the big tree nearby.

'Leap of faith. But in this case, I'm the faith, I'll catch you.'

She loved heights. And of course, she chose a high place to hide. It wasn't a difficult jump, but if he missed, he was not only going to fall several feet, but also crash into a tree with dangerous branches. But he trusted her. More than life itself. So he jumped.

'Don't look down, I've got you.' Their proximity was overbearing. His face was inches away from hers. He couldn't move further away because they needed to maintain the balance on the branch, otherwise it would break. He didn't mind the position, though.

'I couldn't get anything... He knew who I was and-'

'Wife managed to escape. She also knew about you, and therefore, about me. She gave me this.' She showed him a small piece of paper containing the information that they needed. 'Turns out you managed to convince someone after all.'

He smiled at her. He could hear people going back and forth and cars driving away. The tree was a good hiding spot: six Company men passed right by them. But they couldn't stay there forever. Just a couple more minutes before they had to start running again. Just a couple more minutes...

Alexander's right hand was holding the branch, while his left hand was firmly placed on the tree's trunk. Right next to Brie's face. He felt like a stupid teenager in a romance novel. They were staring at each other. He was fighting the urge to wet his lips; she was watching his every move, and he was losing that small fight. He was losing all fights because he wanted to get lost in her. He started getting closer, trying to rest his forehead on hers. He didn't care anymore. Fuck the mission. Fuck Scylla. Fuck the Company. Fuck everything.

And fuck Linc. Maybe it was a reflex, but she answered right away after the first ring.

'Guys? Are you done with the Baker's thing? We need you here, it's an emergency! Sucre stepped into a mine!'

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Some people think that the most dangerous part of a grenade detonation is the explosion itself. But the most dangerous part is not having a blast: once the safety pin is out and nothing happens, uncertainty will kill you before the actual danger does. That sensation repeated constantly that day as they worked restlessly to surpass all the security barriers surrounding Scylla. Fernando Sucre didn't blow up into a million pieces; Alexander and Brie managed to dismantle just in time one of the many systems that Baker designed for the Company's dark book.

They had to break through two walls: one made of concrete and one made of glass. And do it without making a sound, as the room had noise, weight, and temperature sensors. They had to traverse the distance between the two walls without touching the floor and do all that without generating any body heat. Nice and easy, right? Everyone had a role and was performing it as if they had been blessed with a degree in civil engineering overnight. There was no time for questions or double-guessing (mainly because they couldn't talk while working). They were running out of time.

For each layer surpassed, the sensation that everything was about to turn very wrong invaded Brie. She knew that she needed to calm down because a frightened mind might make a terrible mistake, and also because she felt that the noise sensors might catch her violent heartbeat. She was even more nervous because it wasn't her turn yet: she was the one assigned to cross the improvised bridge between the two walls and destroy the glass wall to get Scylla. One wrong step and everything would be over. Her love for heights was being put to the test.

Before she started walking, she turned around to see him. It's funny how, in moments when you feel like your life is passing right in front of you, every thought comes rushing back and hits you like a semi-truck. She had many things to say to him, good and bad. But they couldn't talk. So she had to pour out her messy thoughts in just one look. She took a deep breath and continued her path. Every inch was well-calculated, and according to Sucre, Linc, and Michael, she seemed to be in her element. Only Alexander felt her fear.

Millions of thoughts were invading her: Alexander, Cameron, Wyatt, Alexander, Brad, Sona, Alexander, Sara, the FBI, Michael, Sucre, Linc, Alexander, the General, Shales, Alexander, Kristine... Oh God. She didn't even get to tell Alexander what Kristine had said. It was a short conversation, less than two minutes... but something felt off. She kept walking; if she wanted to figure out that situation, she needed to keep walking. What was she going to do next? What would happen to Scylla? How the hell would they get out of there? The cold glass texture interrupted her actions, but not her thoughts.

When she was part of Shales' army, she would constantly dissociate: she would activate an automatic mode in which the job was done most efficiently and her emotions were turned off. That didn't mean that the screams, the smell of blood, and the sound of bullets didn't get registered in her brain. Those memories were archived and were let out just before she had to go to sleep. Of course, in that moment, she didn't slice the General's bodyguards' throats or cold-bloodedly shoot Krantz. She just disappeared, trying to continue her job (which now was protecting Michael and Scylla) while fighting her anxiety.

That's why she didn't process when Scylla appeared after using the cards as keys. She didn't know how they managed to "kidnap" the General in his office. She wasn't aware of what they were going to do next. The only thing she grasped was that her name wasn't mentioned. Krantz was a businessman, after all: his only resource left was trying to buy them, offering what they desired most. He told Sucre that he could get a college fund for his girl; he told Michael that Sara and he could live a care-free life in a faraway place, like the one he was also offering to Linc for L.J. and Sofía; he told Mahone that Pam and he could start again, and become parents one more time when the grieving period was over. Stupid and empty promises. But none for Brie.

Despite her hate for the man, she felt strange. He only said that she would be a good asset for the Company in a general way. What the hell was that? She was there with them in the room. She was the one standing closest to him. And yet she now realized that he didn't have a fucking clue of who she was, her ambitions or who she cared for. Wyatt didn't tell him, not even after she revealed her story. It was a personal revenge then. Her story didn't matter. She didn't matter.

'One last chance, leave Scylla and you can all go free.'

She could walk away from this mess... she just could...

Except that her loyalty was unmatched. She kept calm when Sara's phone call came in, revealing that she had the Krantz's daughter at gunpoint; that was their guarantee for leaving without a scratch. She kept calm when they left the building with the General and his dozens of bodyguards. She kept calm when Linc started to look at her differently, after Krantz revealed that Michael's and Linc's father was an executioner for the Company, like her. She kept calm when she smuggled Scylla under her shirt to distract the people going after Michael. She kept calm when Self was saying goodbye and giving them their last instructions.

She kept calm until she couldn't.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Michael couldn't believe everything was over. Scylla was under Self's power (the government), and he had lent them their documents that confirmed that all their charges had been dropped and the instructions for receiving their payment. Their future was inside that manila envelope. They were all gathered at the warehouse, which seemed emptier and bigger. Eight had started this mission; six made it to the final line. Brad's absence hit harder than ever.

They all got older, probably not wiser, but a sense of relief was imprinted in everyone's face: Sucre would go back to his little family; Linc would go back to Panama with L.J. and Sofia; Sara and he... well he needed to buy a ring first, but eventually they would start a new life together; and Brie and Alex... Michael hoped that they could finally stop playing games and accept their feelings for each other. He didn't want to tell Sara, but Linc, Sucre, and he were having a bet to see when they would make it official.

They were at the dinner table, all their possessions in bags, ready to get the hell out of there. He wanted to say a few words before handling the documents, something to express his gratitude, or to say goodbye. But his head started hurting again. The vans and the ambulance that Self ordered for their departure were about to arrive. Maybe he would send a letter once everything was calmer. They deserved that. Everyone looked thrilled and hopeful, except for Brie. She had a stoic expression and was walking back and forth, her hands clasped behind her back. He couldn't read her very well yet, but maybe it was her way of dealing with stuff. Alex didn't look worried, so perhaps it was nothing.

And then, they opened the envelope.

Chapter Text

"If you'll only say you love me still"

Everything happened in slow motion. The blank paper sheets falling on the ground. The realization that all their effort was for nothing. The projectiles. The bullets. Alexander pulled Brie to the floor, placing himself on top of her. He was now the human shield. He never trusted Self, none of them did, but after he recovered Brad’s body and he showed compassion towards Alexander situation with Wyatt, he wanted to believe that he was not a monster. Now they were left with no money, no freedom, no nothing. The only thing left to do was to escape. They managed to leave the warehouse after Lincoln deactivated the automatic weapon that Self had hidden to scare them away (or kill them).

‘If Homeland knows where we’re at, sooner or later they’re coming for us.’ Alexander was trying really hard to keep everyone walking, moving far away from that place.

‘Then let them come. We didn’t do anything wrong. We have deals.’ Fernando was staring at the pieces of paper on the floor.

‘No, we have paper. That’s what Self left us. That’s what we have. We gotta get out of here. I’m not talking about running, I’m talking about surviving.’

Throughout the exchange, Alexander was firmly grabbing Brie’s arm. When the first gas bomb crashed through the window, his first instinct was to take her hand and run as fast as he could to keep her safe. He didn’t know what was going to happen next, he only knew that he needed to escape. That’s why he didn’t notice how hard she was trying to free herself.

‘Michael, what’s on your mind?’

‘I’ll try to contact Gretchen and Self, see if it was them all along. On the meantime you all need to go to the location I’ll provide and wait for my instructions. Linc, you come with me. Alex, a word?’

Alexander didn’t want to have a word with Michael. Every moment they wasted talking was a moment they could use to be a few miles away. He didn’t know why his first instinct was running: he had been in the military, the FBI, and an agent for the Company (much to his dislike). He had been before several powerful and dangerous people who wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in his skull, so why was he a nervous wreck? The answer was probably the woman staring back at him with a wrinkle between her brows.

Turns out, he was wrong. He knew where that was coming from. The same feeling had taken hold of him: the same feeling he felt when Pam was pregnant with Cameron, when his son was born, when he learned about Shales, when the Company started threatening him and his family… protect at all costs. It was a different situation, though. Pam and Cameron couldn’t defend themselves. Brie, despite not wanting to hurt anybody anymore, could still keep up with a fight if she needed to. She didn’t need protection. But he wanted to protect her, because she held such a large and important place in his life, that if anything, no matter how small, happened to her, he would be unable to live with it. Yes, that was the only option, the only thing that should matter to him.

‘What did Michael say?’ Her tone was monotonous, with a hint of annoyance, just like the one she used to have whenever he messed up.

‘He’s taking care of everything. He’s sending us far. Sucre, Sara, you and me… we are getting bus tickets to somewhere out of state.’

‘What?’

‘We are leaving.’

‘You are leaving. I am staying.’

‘The Company is looking for us like bloodhounds. We don’t know what Self told the government about us. Gretchen is paired up with T-Bag and still looking for Scylla. We still have all the other charges from before… We cannot stay. I know Michael is brilliant, but this is too much, even for him. Please Brie, we’ll be better off here.’

‘So you just want to give up and run away.’

‘I want us alive. Come on Brie, let’s go!’ He firmly grabbed her hand, trying to drag her. Big mistake.

‘You cannot force me. And you are hurting me.’ He stopped right in his tracks, losing his grip slightly. Part of him didn’t want to let go entirely because he knew he would not get her back that easily, but the redness in her wrist didn’t lie. His stomach dropped.

‘I’m sorry, are you okay?’

‘You haven’t changed a bit, Alexander. Always running away when things get hard. Kim, the FBI, Pam, Shales…’

‘And who was running away with me in all those situations?’ Now he was getting angry.

‘Because I didn’t know anything else! Now I do. And I want to burn the Company to the ground, and I will do it with or without you here.’

‘So you are regretting everything you did with me then.’

It took him completely by surprise. He wanted to pinch himself, but he didn't want to ruin it. She was, in fact, hugging him again. It was brief, too brief for his liking. But seeing her rise on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck made his heart turn into fireworks.

‘I don’t… but I cannot keep living a life tied to you. I need to make my own choices, and I believe this is the right one.’

‘See, that’s where we differ. I cannot move forward if I know you won’t be there…’

‘Then we are doomed. You have to make a choice, ‘cause I’ve made mine, and...’

If Alexander weren’t in a state of constant panic, he would have heard Brie saying (in her style, obviously) that she didn’t want to leave him. Despite everything they went through, their bond was too strong, and Brie was also not ready to give up. But Alexander… well, he was still Alexander.

He had to make a split-second decision. When he was living with the monster he had to call father, he had zero options. It was whatever he said, whenever he said it. That’s why, as an adult, he was desperate to get everything he wanted. Pam, but also Cameron, but also Brie, but also his job, but also his money, but also his sense of power… needless to say, it never worked.

‘Ok… I’ll stay… But we need help. External, I mean. We need all the help we can get, we don’t know how dangerous is our current situation.’

‘Who do you mean by “help”?’

‘Can you trust me on this one?’

‘I don’t have other choice, do I?’

Alexander Mahone was not a coward. But after so many years in the military and the FBI, he had learned that desperate times called for desperate measures, and they needed someone whom they could trust. Brie was not going to be happy about it. In fact, none of them would be happy about it, but it was a calculated risk. He couldn’t read Michael’s true reaction when he told him about his intentions, but he accepted his proposal.

Overthinking has been a synonym of his life for the past year. It seemed like every good thing he had been trying to do, in reality, was a mistake that would come back to haunt him at night. Every time he tried to make things right with Pam, it backfired. Every time he wanted to be a present father to Cameron, something got in the way. He felt secure with Brie; their connection allowed him to relax a little bit, knowing that she probably knew where he was coming from. Unfortunately for him, their dynamic had changed drastically: he was making the same mistakes as with Pam, and he was fearing her imminent departure, just like Pam did. As he approached the woman standing on the bridge, the uneasy feeling in his chest continued to grow.

“You are fucking it up” His mind repeated constantly. But it was too late to run away.

‘Hello, Alex.’

‘You came.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

‘Lang?! Are you fucking serious?!’

‘We need someone we can trust.’

‘You mean, someone YOU trust!’

‘Brie, come on.’

‘She testified against you in that stupid trial that almost killed you!’

‘Forced by Sullins.’

‘You are unbelievable.’

‘Do you have a better plan, then?’

‘Yes, following Michael’s plan? Trusting my friends? As much as you say that Lang was coerced to testified against you, she didn’t help you escape, she didn’t give a fuck about you. When you fell out of grace with the FBI, she didn’t try to reach out to you, or talk to you… I did. We all did things for you, Alexander. We are your people, not them.’

‘There are things they might be able to do as well. Things that are out of everyone’s range here.’

‘Like what? Giving you your job back? Is that what this is about?’

‘No…’

‘Liar.’

‘What am I supposed to do when this is all over? I need some solid ground, Brie. If we cannot get Scylla back, at least we can get a second chance… make amends with them… I need to take care of our future.’

‘Our future? You do whatever you want, Alexander. I won’t go back to that life.’

‘It wouldn’t be the same as before…’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘Well, how can I know if we don’t try? Brie… I want to be with you, but I don’t want to do that as fucking fugitives. Just… trust me on this one, okay?’

‘You have asked me that twice today. And each one is worse than the previous one.’

Alexander stared at her with pure guilt. Years of lying, taking advantage of her, and playing with her feelings had left him in a position where her trust was something really hard to get. The battle in his heart was driving him crazy; things were much easier when he could pretend that she didn’t matter. But now he couldn’t bottle up those feelings even if he wanted, she was everything that mattered. ‘I know it looks bad… and I don’t know what to do or say so you can trust me… but I believe it is the best thing we can do…’

‘If you are so sure, then you go. I’ll go with Sara and Michael.’

‘Brie, please…’ He was getting closer, so close that he could watch himself reflected in her eyes. He loved her eyes, the fire that came with them, the peace that they provided. But he hated the pain he could always find in them, him being the cause most of the times.

‘I… need to speak with Sara.’

There it was, the confirmation of his fears. Alexander Mahone, the king of letting people down, the master of fucking it up, the ruler of the disappointment kingdom, the-

‘Can you wait for me? Or when are you reuniting with her?’

‘In one hour.’

‘I’ll be right back.’

He didn’t deserve her.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Those fucking eyes. She hated them. She hated how much she would miss them if she’d left him. Logic said that she should just go. She was determined to find a better life, and as much as it hurt, Alexander was a huge part of her past. Could he transform in her future? Who knows? There had to be a conversation, long and hard, but both of them were experts in the art of avoidance. Their “relationship” started like that.

‘What do you think?’ Sara was her best friend. Which was kinda strange to say because she’d never had a friend before so she was still unsure how those labels worked. But she was very kind and willing to listen to her. And Brie was starting to open up for the first time with someone other than Alexander.

‘Well… we are in a desperate situation, and I don’t blame Alex for looking at other options. He said it perfectly, it’s survival. And at the same time… I don’t think it would be healthy for both of you to become involved with the FBI again.’

‘I know, that’s why I’m trying to tell him… but Alexander loved that job, and I know that, if given the chance, he would go back there in a heartbeat.’

‘And what if he eventually does? What would you do?’

‘I would have to leave him.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘It’s not what I want… but I can’t go back.’

‘Have you mentioned this to him?’

‘Yes… but he keeps insisting. He doesn’t want to let me go.’

‘When a man is in love… You have no idea what’s on his mind or what he is capable of.’

‘I know. Breaking out of prison twice.’

‘I mean… well… shut up.’ Sara sincere and nervous laugh made her relax a little bit. ‘Maybe he’ll change his mind… let’s wait and see how it goes with this… Lang? You said? How well do you know her?’

‘Well enough to know that she would do anything for Alexander and that she would be more than happy to get him back.’ Even Brie was surprised by her harsh tone.

‘Oh… I see… I see some jealousy going on as well…’

‘You are so wrong’

‘Okay… if you say so. So if this reunion goes very well, and Alex eventually returns to the FBI, you go away, he and Lang get together…’

‘I don’t care.’

‘Absolutely. Because you’ll be far away, so you wouldn’t mind.’

‘Sara Wayne Tancredi I don’t know what you’re trying to imply.’

‘Nothing! I just like cracking your walls.’

‘Very funny.’

‘Look… go with Alex to this meeting and if Michael and I are gone by the time it ends, I’ll let you know where we are so you can come with us if that’s what you want.’

‘Fine… Are you two going to be okay?’

‘We’ll do our best. See you soon.’

‘Promise?’

‘Promise.’

She didn’t believe Sara. As intelligent as Michael was, he wasn’t a skilled fighter (just that one time in Sona) and she had been feeling bad lately. To be fair, the team was now fragmented, and none of the parts worked as well as they should on their own, not even Alexander and she. After a quick hug, she went to meet with Alexander, who was pacing around, probably thinking she wouldn’t come back.

‘Okay, let’s go.’

‘I’m grateful that you are coming with me.’

She gave him a quick smile and continued walking. The cafeteria was the same one where he had met with Pam. When they arrived, there was no sign of Lang or the police, which was not reassuring, given that they were trained agents, after all.

‘I’ll wait outside… I don’t want surprises.’

‘I don’t think Felicia would pull out something on us.’

‘On you, she’s only expecting you. Me? She chased me like a dog. And you are on a first-name basis now?’

‘Brie…’

‘Just saying. I’ll stay here.’

‘You have nothing to worry about, I’ve got you.’

‘If you are so sure, look again.’

Alexander turned around just in time to see Lang arrive and enter the cafeteria, followed by none other than Mark Wheeler.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He was holding her hand.

He grabbed her hand across the table and they were smiling. She felt like throwing up. In that moment, she could have been with Sara and Michael with an actual good lead on Self and Scylla but no, she was chasing Alexander’s dream of redemption. Nothing good would come out of that reunion. He had equal chances that they’d laugh at his face, they’d arrest him, or both. Wheeler stood up from his seat and disappeared from her sight, meanwhile Lang remained in the boot with Alexander. He was holding her hand.

Lang was a very beautiful woman. Despite her cold attitude, she knew how to wear a two-piece suit and still look very feminine and powerful. She was also clever and nice. And single. When they first started working together, she once had a dream that Alexander and Lang got married. She woke up that night in a pool of sweat, a violent heartbeat, and a naked Alexander next to her.

Those were things she shouldn’t have felt back then and shouldn’t be feeling right now. She needed to focus on getting Scylla back, destroying the Company, and helping Michael. There was no room for other things or feelings. In a way, she missed the time when she was able to suppress her emotions remarkably well. The knot in her stomach and her teary eyes threatened to give her away. She was biting her tongue to a bleeding point, just wanting to scream at them.

‘Hi, Jones… are you still going by Jones?’

Wheeler used to be unable to hide his feelings. When they first met, he would blush at any sight or interaction with Brie, and he would stutter whenever he had to give her updates for their cases. Alexander was still married to Pam when Wheeler got the courage to ask her out, so why did she not accept? Her shell was too strong, and her true self was hidden in a remote area, unreachable to anyone, including Alexander. She thought he eventually got over it: he got promoted, his confidence grew, and he managed to control the blushing.

‘Jones is fine still, I guess.’

‘I thought you might join us in our conversation.’

‘I never agreed to said conversation… I’m watching his ass.’

‘As always… Hey, I didn’t get a chance to talk to you after Alex’s trial.’

‘Wheeler… I…’

‘Was all that true? Your story, I mean.’

She let out a deep breath. ‘Yes.’

‘I’m sorry… no one should go through what happened to you.’

‘Hey, there’s a reason why I never told this story out loud… I don’t need your pity.’

‘It isn’t pity… It’s admiration.’

The wrinkle between her brows started forming. ‘What?’

‘I mean, I always thought you were some kind of superhuman… and this confirms it…’

‘I am far from that.’

‘Can I tell you something?’

‘You already did.’

‘I think you have already paid off your debt with Alex... I mean, I heard what happened in Panama.’

‘Oh really? You don’t know half of everything we went through together.’

‘Mmm, I sort of know. And I know how he treats you, how he uses you…’

‘Stop.’

‘You took three bullets for him, you endured Pam’s mean comments about you, you drove 40 hours to see his son which was his responsibility, he abandoned you in Panama twice, and don’t get me started in this Scylla shit… Sounds like hell.’

‘You don’t get it.’

‘No, you don’t get it. With a good lawyer, all of your charges would have been dropped. You would be free… Free to go wherever you want. Free to be with whoever you want… and you are still here with Alex, even if you don’t owe him anything anymore… he’s going to drag you down again…’

‘I made my choice, Wheeler… and this is bigger than Alexander, than me, than the FBI, than everything!’

‘What if he pulls something like Panama again? And in the last moments, he takes all the credit and abandons you to your luck… what then?’

‘I… I…’

‘You don’t deserve being treated like this… You. Don’t. Owe. Him. Anything.’

‘I…’

‘What did he promise? What was the lie this time? Come on, you are the most intelligent woman I know… You can see through his lies… how can you trust him?’

His words were like a bucket of ice water. He was right. In the past, he had already gotten her unconditional help by sweetening her ear with false promises and a false love. What if his declaration of love was just to get her to convince her to get him out of Sona? What if he still loved Pam like Krantz said? What if he just needed her strength to find and kill Wyatt? What if she were just his cover for all his crimes? ‘I don’t know…’

‘Exactly… I can help you… I can place you in witness protection… I can offer you a way out… Alex doesn’t have one… and you deserve it…’

‘Wheeler…’

‘Call me Mark. He took advantage of you… And I can’t stand that… Unlike him, I do want you to be okay… Be happy.’

She didn’t know how that happened. She’d let her guard down and he had gotten in her mind. He wanted to push him away, mentally and physically (he was basically pinning her down), but the part of her that Alexander destroyed when he left on that boat filled her with doubts and insecurities once again. The downside of feeling things was that she didn’t have her façade anymore. She was visibly afraid of what Alexander could do. Afraid of trusting him again. Afraid of his perfect way of lying…

Maybe all of that happening at the same time prevented her from stopping him once he started kissing her. He was gentle, sweet, full of affection… What the hell was she doing? She could feel Alexander’s eyes piercing holes in her back, but she didn’t dare to look back. She was too stunned to speak or react. Who was lying? Who was telling the truth? What was even her life at this point?

‘I need to go back… If you ever need me, you know how to find me… Go now… he won’t be able to hurt you anymore.’

Why the hell was she doing what Wheeler was telling her to do? Didn’t she know better than anyone the dangers of giving too much of herself for a little love? She didn’t bring a car or a better weapon; was she hoping that they would take him away? She should’ve stayed with Sara… Next, she knew she was sitting on the sidewalk; Wheeler, Lang, and Alexander left the café and entered a transfer vehicle. At different points, they all exchanged a glance with her: Wheeler gave her a reassuring smile, Lang was on the verge of crying, and Alexander’s fury was palpable. She saw them leaving for LAX to meet with the district attorney. She was about to call Sara to meet with her when it dawned on her. They were driving east instead of west.

‘Fuck.’

Chapter Text

"If you'll only say you love me still"

Murder was short for what Alexander wanted to do. It took only ten minutes to realize that he was not going to see the district attorney. He was being transported in detainee quality under federal custody. He had been trapped. Felicia’s eyes were filled with tears, and she kept her gaze down. Despite her apparent guilt, Alexander was sure that she was aware of what would happen. Brie told him. Brie…

Motherfucking Wheeler. He should have sent him away the moment he asked if Brie was single all those years ago. But he didn’t care at the time; he was still married, and to be honest, he found the situation hilarious, as there was no way that Brie would even turn to look at Wheeler. So he let it pass and forgot about it. Now, every time he looked at his eyes through the rear-view mirror, dozens of memories of that bastard blushing near Brie, or trying to talk to her, came back to him, reminding him of how stupid he was.

Of course, he was angry with him for kissing her. It felt like a stab in his chest. He couldn’t breathe; jealousy took over, and he had to fight enormously not to attack him once he came back. And at the same time, as much as it pained him to say this, there wasn’t much he could do about it. Brie was not his girlfriend, and considering how much he had fucked up with her in the past couple of days (past couple of lifetimes), the possibility that they may not end together was more palpable than ever. Wheeler was a good guy, an actual good guy; he cared about Brie, and maybe with a person like him, she wouldn’t suffer that much. But God, it hurt.

She didn’t do anything to stop him, both the kiss and his detention. She wasn’t following them. Maybe it was the end. She wanted to live her life and make her own choices, and he had to respect that. But it sucked. It sucked to see her in the arms of another man, but maybe that’s how she felt when he was with Pam. It sucked that she abandoned him, but maybe that’s how she felt when he did it in Panama (twice). Karma sucked.

‘How much longer?’

‘Another hour or so. Just sit tight.’

He needed to do something. Not just about his detention, that was the easy part; he just had to get out of that car. His story with Brie could not end this way. Yes, it sounded selfish, but they have been through a lot to give up right now. He knew that he had screwed it up over and over and that he definitely rushed things and feelings, especially when he blurted out love declarations a few weeks after his betrayal. But things could get fixed, right? Jones and Mahone could be saved, right?

‘I need to use the men’s room.’

‘Congratulations.’ Wheeler’s sarcasm was just giving him another reason to fight for Brie.

‘What do you think I’m gonna do, run? Or you want me to go in the back seat, right here?’ First thing was a must, second was optional but it would piss Wheeler greatly so it wasn’t that crazy.

‘I want you to have a little bit of respect for my intelligence, Alex.’

‘I do, which is why I know you wouldn’t violate Code 42-13-72B, which states that an individual being transported by a representative of the criminal justice system must be afforded the opportunity to relieve himself if the duration of the transport is more than three hours.’

‘All right, I’ll see what I can do, but I’m going to remind you of a code. The one that says if a prisoner attempts escape during transfer, the accompanying agent has the right to shoot them through the back of the head.’

There was an abandoned bathroom in the middle of the road. Disgusting, but a functional bathroom and enough for a “prisoner” like him. Wheeler was behind him, pointing directly to his head, while Lang examined the bathroom, making sure there was no other way out. They gave him 15 seconds, which was unrealistic for a pee, but enough for what he was planning to do. He silently made his way back to the car, with a pair of confused agents behind. He sat and smiled; he just needed to wait for the perfect moment.

‘I’m curious, Lang. When did you decide to turn your back on me? Back in Panama you seemed awfully decided to help.’

‘The only thing I ever wanted was your safety, Alex. The longer you are on the run, the more danger you are to yourself and others.’

‘I’ve been doing pretty fine by myself, thank you.’

Wheeler’s stupid laugh resonated in the car. ‘Yourself? Everyone in the office knows how pretty useless you are without Jones, Alex. Felicia here saw all the things she did to take you out of prison, while you were being a fucking junkie. You manipulated her all these years to have your back. Keeping her with you like a psycho. And look what happened when she realized how much damage you caused her. You are here, and she’s out there. Free.’

‘Your jealousy is showing, Wheeler.’

‘Mine? Or yours? Just so you know, after I get your ass in prison for life, I’ll go back to continue what I started in that parking lot.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry? For what?’

‘For ruining your plans.’

‘If you think she’s going back to you, I’ll make sure that-‘

‘No, I’m not talking about that. I’m just saying sorry for ruining your plans, because you won’t be able to go back, unless you catch me again.’

The sound of a window breaking made Wheeler lose his cool and stop the car abruptly. Those few seconds allowed Alexander to open the door and begin running. He threw the pipe that he had stolen from the bathroom in their direction after he started hearing gunshots. He kept running. There was some truth in Wheeler’s words: he was indeed almost useless without Brie. Years of working together had made him forget what it was like to go solo. They were two against one, and he was risking his life and dignity without a plan. There was a reason why they planned, there was a reason why they were partners, and there was a reason why they were perfect for each other. They could read each other’s minds. And he couldn’t read Wheeler’s.

‘Kneel you fucking bastard.’

He was screwed.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sara was not answering. She called her ten times and left her voicemails, one more desperate than the previous one. She was still sitting on the sidewalk, hugging her knees. She had only two quarters left, which could mean two more failed attempts to reach Sara and Michael, or two opportunities to ask for other help.

‘Who’s this?’

‘Lincoln? It’s Brie.’

‘Brie? Oh, thank God; where did Michael send you?’

‘Nowhere. Still here.’

‘It’s good that you called. I need both your asses here.’ It didn’t escape Brie that Lincoln was talking in plural, which only made the knot in her stomach become tighter.

‘Here where?’

‘Florida. It’s a long story but I need to work with Gretchen, T-Bag, and Self, and I’d like someone on my side as well.’

‘Gretchen? T-BAG? SELF?! Linc, what the hell happened? Where the fuck are Michael and Sara?’

‘Michael’s in surgery, he’s getting that tumor removed.’

‘That’s good news, right?’

‘In essence, yes… but the Company is the one who took care of everything.’

‘What?!’

‘It’s a long story, but they offered to take care of everything related to Michael’s health if I returned Scylla to the General. I… I tracked Gretchen and Self all the way here to have some bastard steal Scylla at the last moment. Krantz is forcing me to work with them, and… I just don’t know what else to do. I haven’t slept in three days just thinking that they might murder me in my sleep and worrying about my brother… I cannot do it alone, you guys.’

‘Send me the name of where we need to go.’

Has everyone gone mad, including herself? Their alignment had shifted nonstop for the past few weeks: government, anti-government, anti-Company, working for the Company… She knew that her loyalty was with Michael and her friends, but this whole situation was making the promise of a new beginning harder to achieve each day. Maybe she would never get her happy ending. Perhaps her destiny was to be constantly on the line of fire, never finding peace due to her life choices.

For example, it was a choice to say “where WE need to go.” That meant she had to get Alexander. By now, they might be about to enter the freeway, if they respected the speed limits (and because Wheeler was driving, they did). She needed to hurry up and figure something out, but she had no car, no money (except one quarter), and there was no one left at the warehouse. She needed help.

The more her brain created strategies and painted different scenarios, the more she avoided thinking about what would happen when she reunited with Alexander. Her mind was still confused, but not as much as her heart. She wasn’t rescuing him because she felt that she still owed him; she had to rescue him so both could help Lincoln. She wasn’t concerned about meeting again with Mark, because as much as his kiss was filled with love, it didn’t have the effect that Alexander’s pained look afterwards had. She was a mess, a terrible mess, submerged in an even greater mess. She needed help.

She danced the quarter around her fingers, wondering who might be able to help at this time. Names and phone numbers circling her brain, none of them actually useful until a certain face reached her memory. She didn’t know when or how she had memorized her phone number, but it felt like second nature. She only hoped that she wasn’t bothering her, even though it was her who told her she could call if she needed anything, for some reason. After a few seconds, a male voice appeared on the other end of the phone.

‘Hello?’

She thought she had dialled the wrong number, but that voice was somehow buried in her memory and immediately was assigned a face. ‘Paul Kellerman?’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Fortunately, the bitter taste of jealousy didn’t stop him from admiring her in her full superhero mode. He was being held at gunpoint by Wheeler and Lang after his escape attempt, and he was getting scared, because as much as Wheeler was a by-the-book agent, there was hate invading his heart at the time.

The roaring of an engine was the first signal; that was his cue to find somewhere to hide. The wheels destroying the vegetation around should have alerted the FBI agents that something was about to happen, but Wheeler was too angry, and Lang was too consumed by guilt to move. He knew that she wouldn’t run them over, but that was a thought that flashed in his mind for a second. They jumped out of the way as the Jeep dangerously approached. Her hair was dancing in the air, wild and free. She had her shades on, but the fire in her eyes was evident.

‘Get in.’ Her affinity for heights and speed was something he never understood, but he was grateful for. They fled the scene in seconds, so fast that he had to hold tight to his seat because the speed didn’t let him put on his seatbelt. Felicia and Wheeler were left behind, and the only thing he noticed before taking the freeway was the transportation car with all its tires flat. The drive was silent and they didn’t stop until they reached a gas station.

‘How did you find me?’

‘I figured it out. And Mark has a pretty traceable radio.’

‘And you know me so well.’

She just nodded and entered the store. He noticed their bags on the backseats. He opened his: she had packed everything he needed, including clothes, underwear, deodorant, shades, and a gun. He left out a small chuckle; they would always pack like this for a mission. That also told him that they were not going back. She came out a few minutes later and began pumping gas into the vehicle. That was also something he was curious about: she didn’t like Jeeps, and certainly they didn’t have one back in the warehouse. Did she steal it? He wanted to remember if he had seen the car back in the cafeteria’s parking lot, but the only thing he could remember was Wheeler kissing Brie. His stomach dropped again.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Florida. Linc says he needs us there.’

‘Why?’

‘Things are getting more complicated than expected… We need to find Scylla at all costs. Michael’s life is on the line.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘The Company is doing Michael’s operation. But if they don’t get Scylla back…They literally have his brain in their hands. They forced Linc to accept the deal. This was a cry for help to have someone on his side.’

‘So we need to steal for the people from whom we stole Scylla?’

‘I don’t like it either… Linc has a plan, but as soon as Michael is out of danger, we are out as well.’

‘It’s a never-ending nightmare.’

She nodded in response once again. It didn’t escape to him that her tone was monotonous and that she wasn’t looking him in the eye. He was also trying to avoid speaking in long sentences; otherwise, he would break down, and those few questions were often said harsher than he expected. If nothing changed, those would be the longest 36 hours of continuous travel of their lives.

‘Where did you get the car? A Jeep is not your style.’

‘The Kellermans.’

‘As in Kristine and Paul Kellerman?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Brie, don’t you find it odd that those people keep contacting you?’

‘If they help me like now, I don’t mind. And I contacted them. Boy Kellerman brought it to me, turns out he’s alive.’

‘You never told me what you two talked about on that occasion.’

‘Just that if I ever needed help I could call. And I did.’

‘I don’t like it, Brie. I don’t trust them.’

The screech of the tires and the sudden change of direction almost made him scream. He didn’t realize that it was nearly midnight and that she had parked in a motel down the road. He was about to get out, but something felt off. He turned to look at Brie, and that’s when he knew. Her hands were on her face, and she was leaning forward to the stirring wheel.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Get inside, I’ll be there in a minute.’

‘Is this about… what happened?’

‘Many things have happened, Alexander.’

‘I know… And I know us, and I know that we are the worst to talk about it, and-‘

‘You didn’t even say thank you.’

‘What?’

‘I went through all this struggle to get a car, pack our stuff, find you, rescue you… And you didn’t even say thank you. The only thing that you said was how you didn’t trust the only people who looked after me.’

‘I’m sorry, Brie… I didn’t realize… I think I was still in shock about all the situation. Of course I thank you.’

‘Shock my ass. We’ve been on the road for ten hours, Alexander.’

‘I’m sorry. I really am. I’m grateful for everything you did for me. For everything you’ve done for me.’

‘You see, Alexander, in less than a day, I’ve had two separate people telling me that I should just leave you. I’ve paid my dues, I don’t owe you anything anymore. And both told me that you are going to betray me again and drag me down.’

‘Well, I think that you should follow your new boyfriend’s advice, then! Because Wheeler was always so smart!’ The thing about him was that he never meditated his words before speaking whenever jealousy invaded his chest.

‘I’ll just ignore the nonsense that you just said for your own sake.’ She slowly removed her hands from her face and turned to look at him. She wasn’t crying, but she looked exhausted. ‘The thing is that I keep choosing you, over and over. I ignored what my “boyfriend” and Kellerman said and I did everything to find you. I choose you. And I want to believe that it is because I want to and not because I have to. But a part of me is telling me that I keep choosing wrong all the time.’

Alexander felt the universe’s slap that wanted so desperately for him to come to his senses. The knot in his throat prevented him from speaking, so she continued. ‘Over the past months, you have told me 108 times that you love me. I counted them all.’

‘All of them true... I love you, Brie.’

‘109. You know all the terrible things I’ve done in life, and yet, you keep saying that.’

‘You know all mine as well and you… well, you… you don’t-‘

‘I don’t know yet.’

‘It’s fine.’

‘No, it’s not. Don’t you think we both deserve that those words are not wasted?’

‘I mean it every time, Brie.’

‘I don’t need 109 I love yous. I just need… for you… to stop running back to the past. That doesn’t exist anymore. You can’t go back, and I don’t want to go back. When you understand that, we can talk, because every time you try to return to FBI agent Alexander Mahone, it ends up hurting me. Reason says I should just let you be, but something in my heart illogically insists that I should stay.’

Silence. She was right. She was always right. But it scared him. The uncertainty of leaving everything behind to go with her frightened him so much that he didn’t even care that the possibility of everything going back to what it was before was non-existent. He couldn’t help it; he wanted both.

‘It’s getting late, we should go in. There’s a long road ahead of us.’

He nodded and was about to grab both backpacks when he realized she had already grabbed hers. He felt dizzy, confused, and mostly hurt. He didn’t want them to end. But he couldn’t see a scenario in which both could get what they wanted. Was love strong enough to fight all of this? He wanted to think that an answer would come up in his sleep, with her by his side. But his illusions were broken once again with just three words.

‘Two rooms, please.’

Chapter Text

"I will share eternity with you"

The last moments of Lincoln Burrows' life were filled with regret: regret for not calling his son one last time, regret for not proposing to Sofia, regret for not clearing things up with his brother, and regret for not throwing away T-Bag’s cologne. It made the apartment smell like shit. As expected, Michael didn’t take very well his new job; despite his multiple attempts at trying to convince him that he did it so he could get the surgery to remove the tumor that could kill him, Michael was furious, and Sara and he decided to go in their on way to destroy de Company. So basically he was working against his brother.

Working with Self, Gretchen, and T-Bag was the equivalent of torture. All of them had an explosive personality and a way for solving things: betrayal, threats, and murder, respectively. They were not a team; they didn’t even talk to each other unless it was to fight. He wasn’t sure about Self’s and Gretchen’s background, but T-Bag and he had been in prison before, and no matter how many things he barricaded the door with, he was never able to sleep peacefully, thinking any night could be his last. He had called Sucre for backup, but he decided to go back to Chicago to be with his family as long as he could. Brie had called, and he gave her the address but it has been days and she and Alex hasn’t arrived.

So now he was here. His “teammates” were pointing at him with loaded guns. He also had one, but with just three bullets and he was clearly outnumbered. One false movement and he would be dead. Correction: no matter what he did, he was a dead man.

‘So you see Lincoln, we had a little vote. Self, Gretchen and I decided that you are no longer in charge.’

‘Because you are the dream team, right, T-Bag?’

‘Tomayto, tomahto. Give up Lincoln, you are clearly outnumbered.’

‘Count again.’

He didn’t have to look back to know that the bell saved him. In the blink of an eye, he had both Brie and Alex at each side, pointing their guns back at Gretchen, Self, and T-Bag. A sense of relief and security engulfed him. It’s funny how a few months ago, just thinking about them made his blood boil.

‘The moment you stop doing what I tell you to do, I’m gonna blow your brains out.’

‘Do not keep all the fun for yourself, Linc.’

‘Well, now that they are both here we need to make arrangements for the rooms… I guess the ladies can take the double room, and…’ Last week, Self was bragging that he had stolen Mahone’s “death machine.” Now he was looking rather small after receiving that death glare from Brie.

Mahone and Brie entered the double room. Lincoln still had no idea what was going on between those two, but instead of teasing them about it (yes, he felt comfortable enough around the people tasked with killing him in the past), he just wanted to express how grateful he was that they made it on time.

‘Hey guys, thanks for coming when you did.’

‘You helped me like you said you would with Wyatt… I owe you, Linc… And I want to burn the Company to the ground from the very core.’

The sound of a backpack hitting the floor made both men look to the other side of the room. Brie was standing there, immobile, looking at nothing.

‘Earth back to Brie?’

‘Sorry, Linc… I-I, I just… How’s Michael?’

‘He’s alive. Pissed at me, but alive.’

‘I guess Sara is with him?’

‘Probably. I cannot have that much communication with them… especially with those three watching me like hawks.’

‘We are here Lincoln, we’ve got this. So… we get Scylla.’

‘And we are free?’

‘Yes, but not just us… L.J., Pam, Sofia…’

‘The Company suddenly grew a heart?’

‘They’re just tired of us. They want Scylla back and that’s it. Rest well you two, I need your brains and telepathic fighting skills more than ever.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was a double room. It was a double room with two twin beds. Alexander never liked twin beds because he was too tall for them. And also because they reminded him of his loneliness. He meant what he said. Getting Scylla back was more than just their ticket to freedom (they already had that fake chance courtesy of Self): it was their chance to end it. Scylla could single-handedly destroy the Company in the wrong hands, and his hands looked pretty wrong. It was also his chance of getting that other bed closer by a few inches.

‘Are you alright?’

‘Yes… just tired.’

‘Do you want me to get you anything?’

‘No, Alexander, I’m fine.’

‘Really? Cause I also saw that you claimed that one, but you usually don’t sleep close to the window because you get cold, and-‘

‘Alexander, I’m fine.’

‘For the love of God, just fuck already!’ Gretchen’s snarky comment was the last thing everyone in the apartment heard that night before Brie slammed the door on her face.

Watching her sleep was an addiction. Worse than Midazolam. He could do that for hours without getting bored. When their “thing” started, she didn’t like going to his house; there was still “too much Pam” inside. So, on the nights when they would part ways, he was all alone. Well, not that much. All of his demons were there trying to reach him, all of his worries were surrounding him like wild dogs; his guilt was eating him alive. Needless to say, his eyes wouldn’t close until early in the morning the following day. He would look for any excuse to spend the night at her apartment. For sex, yes, but also because feeling her close by was the only thing that could get him to sleep.

And now, they were again spending the night in the same room. But it was a double room. It was a double room with two twin beds. Being an addict for so long, he knew that he just couldn’t fool his body. This replacement sucked, but it’s what he had. His withdrawal from the nights at the motels they passed on their way there, drove him to his limit. At least now he was watching her. But he still couldn’t sleep. His mind kept thinking and thinking.

Brie.

Scylla.

Brie.

Scylla.

Michael.

Brie.

Scylla.

Freedom.

Brie.

Scylla.

Pam.

Pam. He didn’t know if their paths would ever cross again, but if they did, he was sure that he wouldn’t be able to look at her. First, because of all the danger that had crept into her life because of him. And second, because he had now realized that he had relentlessly tried to get her back after the divorce… while he was in love with someone else.

It was crystal clear that he had developed feelings for Brie way before he wanted to accept it. His heart felt secure with her, and he had this sensation of acceptance that nobody had been able to give him before. Pam would always have a special place in his heart, after all, she was the mother of his son and his first love. But if a miracle had happened, and they had gotten back together after Panama, he was sure that he would have forced himself to be happy, and none of them deserved that.

What Pam did deserve was a heads-up. Ever since the Wyatt thing, she had been on witness protection, and in Alexander’s opinion, she deserved to know that soon this would be over and that she could get over that dark period in her life. She could do whatever she wanted: leave the country, change her name, find love again… And that meant that he could do the same. He took one last look at Brie, feeling that warm sensation in his chest that appeared every time he looked at her, and left the room to make a quick phone call (perks of keeping that untraceable mobile phone from the FBI days).

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It seemed as if no matter how hard she tried, she would always end up driving away after committing a murder. Alexander was the only one who knew the memo and buckled up; the rest of the passengers were holding on for dear life as they fled the scene. They were not worried about the police; there was something bigger and worse coming. Over the past few days, they had been tracking down possible Scylla buyers and sellers, hoping to catch them in the act and return Scylla to the general. But after failed attempts and threats, they were all starting to lose patience.

She never trusted Gretchen, and, in a way, she was expecting something of that nature to happen sooner or later. Gretchen’s loyalty to the Company had never been clear. What was clear was that she had a five-year-old daughter whom she had to pretend to be her aunt to protect her, and she would do anything to get her back. The crossfire between Gretchen, the team, and the “buyers” lasted 30 seconds, but it felt like 30 hours. Instinctively, she moved to place herself in front of Alexander; he must have thought the same thing because they ended up in an awkward position side by side, on which neither of them offered any protection to the other, but they were standing really close by. In the end, they left the scene with the buyers dead, Gretchen injured and about to be caught by the police, and they with a small and ridiculous clue: a key.

The following morning, she woke up at 3 AM and started running laps. Another failed mission. Another step back. They will never get Scylla back. That group was destined to fail, and probably that was the reason why Krantz put them together, so that the Company could get rid of them without even touching them. Gretchen was already gone, who was next? She ran faster. They needed Michael, Sara, Sucre, Bellick… Brad. They never got confirmation that his mother received his body. Probably another of Self’s lies. She ran faster. This was never going to end.

The only thing she wanted to do that day was take a cold shower and go back to bed. They had a mission planned in the afternoon, so she had plenty of time to recover and think of her misery. Instead, she was received with screams and papers flying everywhere.

‘SON OF A BITCH!’

‘I swear that if he places one finger on my mama…’

Brie’s confused face turned into a frown once she realized what was going on. Self, T-Bag, Linc, and Alexander were holding envelopes with their names written on. Inside, there were pictures of important people for them: T-Bag got a picture of his mother, Linc of L.J. and Sofia, Self of some woman, and Alexander received a photo of Pam. She looked around for hers. There was nothing. Her actions were involuntary; she didn’t mean to snatch Linc’s phone like that, but she needed to know.

‘I didn’t receive shit. Why?’

‘Miss Jones, it’s always a delight talking with you.’

‘Cut the crap. Why?’

‘Because-‘

‘Because back in your office you gave promises to everyone to rebuild their lives and you only offered me a fucking job.’

‘You really don’t realize how incredible you would be in the Company. Your assets make you better than anyone. You are sharp, precise, efficient… You could escalate quickly here, become my right hand. I need people like you Jones.’

‘But I don’t need people like you. So, if you have nothing to threaten me and no stupid promises, I can just walk away from here, right?’

‘That’s an excellent question. And the answer is yes, I’m afraid so. Cameron Mahone is dead and that’s the only person we could have used against you. But, think about it, miss Jones, there’s really no one out there? What if you are wrong? You know how we play; we always have an ace up our sleeve.’

She fought with every inch of her body not to look in Alexander’s direction. Someone might be watching; Alexander and she used to make the same type of threats back in the day, and she knew that there had to be someone close by when the message was received to acknowledge if it had worked. The Company was very manipulative and knew which strings to pull; she had seen it with Alexander. And at the same time, she could tell that they didn’t have the whole story, and the stakes were too high to make vague statements. Hell, they found T-Bag’s mother, why the hell didn’t they have something concrete about her?

‘I’ve spent most of my life seeing innocent people suffer. I’m done with that. I’ll stay, not for you. For L.J., Sofia, Pam… even T-Bag’s mom and that woman in Self’s picture. Leave them the fuck alone and I’ll get you Scylla.’

‘Wyatt was right. You are different. Very well then, miss Jones, we’ll do that. And do me a favour, tell Paul Kellerman I say hi.’

The general and Lincoln continued talking for what seemed like hours. It was probably minutes, but the room was spinning for Brie, so she didn’t have time or space awareness. She felt pretty stupid for sacrificing herself for people who didn’t know her, or didn’t give a fuck about her. They probably knew about Alexander and she, but if they thought that she was just the dirty little mistress and that the only person he cared about was Pam, it was for the better. God, it felt weird thinking like that.

‘You didn’t have to do that.’ Lincoln’s voice sounded extremely tired, but grateful. His position was very difficult and nothing was going his way.

‘That’s what she does.’ Alexander’s eyes had that special shine that she hated. Mainly because her heart would start dancing around whenever she saw them.

‘My usual stupidity. Do we have any leads on the keys?’

They also knew about Kellerman. She didn’t know if she should worry; in the end, Paul Kellerman had been a Company agent, and he knew how they worked. But part of her felt guilty that she had accidentally dragged him and his sister into this. Despite her usual coldness and being an expert on avoiding personal questions, their few interactions had been nice, friendly even. Not a trace of the man who shot Alexander in that tunnel. She was keeping her distance and was alert at all times (Sara told her the story of how he faked being her friend to get more information regarding Michael after the Fox River escape), and yet, she trusted the sibling enough to ask for help. It was just weird.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Alexander fuck it up again. He should never have called her. Now Pam was in danger once again because of him. Her tone that night was cold but polite. Now, he didn’t know if she would ever talk to him again. The uneasy sensation in his chest increased once he realized that, instead of feeling freaked out because his ex-wife's picture was inside that envelope, he felt relief that it wasn’t Brie’s photo. That meant that the Company didn’t know everything and he still had some control in his life. Or maybe it was a trap to make Brie think that he still loved Pam and was using her as he had always done.

Fuck.

She was quieter than usual. He had heard a part of her conversation with Krantz after she took the phone away from Lincoln, but he couldn’t listen to his answers, especially the one that made her stop in her tracks and not look him in the eye. She didn’t say a thing and he didn’t ask. They were going back from a place that they found through the key. It was a high-tech key that was connected to a sophisticated security system that opened two doors in two locations; T-Bag and Self had gone to one of them in Little Havana and Linc, Brie and he went to the other one. It was a big house, but not a single soul around. That meant danger.

Turns out he was right. The only thing inside that house was a picture of little Linc with a pregnant woman, his mother, Christina Rose. The picture was odd, not only because it appeared out of nowhere, but also because it had been clearly manipulated. They were standing next to a car that was fabricated years after Michael was born. And the baby inside of her had to be Michael. That, and a mysterious phone call that highly suggested that Christina Rose was alive, made the three passengers extremely tense.

‘But you said your mother died of cancer, right?’ Alexander had a really bad feeling, and he was almost sure that he was correct. Linc’s mother was behind everything. Scylla was an extremely powerful tool: it gave the Company its status, and without it, they were close to nothing. This was highly beneficial to all the Company’s enemies and people hungry for power. Whoever got Scylla, would win. And in this world, where dead people didn’t remain dead, at least the ones who should, everything was possible.

‘Yes. I was at the funeral; I saw her die.’

‘But did you see the body? Did you confirm she was dead?’

‘I was a kid, Alex, I didn’t think of playing detective!’

‘I knew my mother was dead because her brains exploded on my feet…’

‘Not now Brie.’

‘Sorry.’

‘My point is, you know these people, Linc. Your dad worked in the Company; It’s not crazy to think that your mother also did… It’s a little bit crazy to think that she is alive, but it’s possible.’

‘They told me I need to go somewhere to receive further instructions… I need to understand what’s going on.’

‘I’ll go with you.’

‘No, Alex. Go and find T-Bag and Self, I don’t trust them going solo.’

‘I’ll go with you then. I need to give back this jeep, anyway.’

‘I cannot ask you that, Brie.’

‘I insist. If she’s somehow involved with the Company, you need a more realistic plan. You can’t have a one-man frontal assault.’

‘I agree, Linc.’

‘You… you agree?’ Brie’s surprised tone made Lincoln raise an eyebrow.

‘Yes. I’ll get those two and join you as soon as I can.’

Linc’s phone rang again. It was Michael, and because of the increased volume of his voice, Alexander and Brie could tell that it was another fight between the brothers. When they arrived at the apartment, Linc was the only one who went inside, claiming that he needed to grab some stuff before meeting his mother. They couldn’t see him from their position, but Alexander would later find out that he took three fully charged guns.

‘So, we both agree that it’s a trap.’

‘Yeah… either Christina Rosa is alive and behind all of this, or she’s dead but there are people behind all of this with the same motivation. Either way, Linc cannot go alone.’

‘I know…’

‘Please text me when you get there, everything that’s necessary. I need to know how to act in case you need backup.’

‘Can I ask you a question?’

‘Shoot.’

‘A few days ago, you would have gone crazy if I offered to do something dangerous. What’s different?’

‘Don’t get me wrong, I’m freaking out. But… I trust you, you are the best for this job. You always excel at protecting others.’

‘Thanks for that vote of confidence.’

‘Are you meeting Kellerman, then?’

‘Yes. According to what he last told me, he arrived here yesterday. I just borrowed the car to come here and he will need it, so...’

‘Brie… I know that you trust the guy, but please be careful… with what we know about Christina Rose, I’m not exceedingly happy with people from the Company or who used to work for the Company.’

‘I guess you are right. Listen, if I die-‘

‘Woah, no need to go there yet.’

‘Alexander, we are dealing with some of the most dangerous people on Earth. Death is around the corner for all of us. So, if I die, there’s an envelope under my mattress for you. I didn’t get one, so I made one.’

‘Brie…’

‘Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go!’ Linc’s words made him get out of the vehicle so that he could ride next to Brie.

That was the perfect moment for an “I love you,” but it didn’t happen. In addition to everything else, they were dealing with a complex mix of emotions; it was a case of “maybe right person, worst of times.” The only thing they agreed on was that it was an advantage that the Company still didn’t know about them (apparently). A painful advantage, but an advantage. That way, they couldn’t use each other as a threat. However, it was just a matter of time before T-Bag, Gretchen, Self or even Lincoln could say something that made them look at their partnership more closely.

‘Be safe.’

‘Always.’

Their advantage was that they didn’t need words. They had looks.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Brie didn’t die that day. But Lincoln almost did. The meeting was in a hotel; Lincoln was sitting by the window close to a door, waiting for his “mother”. She was parked right across from him, double-dutying, protecting him and waiting for Kellerman. Her guns were loaded, and she had spotted most of the bodyguards around them. It was a matter of waiting.

‘Please tell me you are not working for Christina Rose.’ She didn’t flinch. Just like Alexander and she, Paul Kellerman had been trained to enter and exit vehicles in silence. Usually, this would help whenever they wanted to surprise their objective, but since they were both former agents, they knew how the other would act. Plus, she saw him through the rear-view mirror.

‘Hi to you too. No, we are not. So, is that her?’

‘Yes. Alive and finally not undercover.’

‘Being associated with the Company makes you return from the dead.’

Kellerman let out a small chuckle. ‘True. Did you get my gift?’

‘I’m wearing it right now.’ Brie lifted her shirt, revealing a bulletproof vest. ’Lincoln has the other one.’

‘Good… although I left it for your Mahone.’

‘Stop with that.’

‘Why? It’s funny.’

It was her turn to chuckle. She grabbed the Jeep’s key and handled them to him. ‘I cannot promise no scratches, but you get a full tank. And a thank you.’

‘You know I’m a phone call away if you need it.’

‘And I still don’t know why, but thanks, I guess.’

‘The only thing you need to know right now is-‘

‘GET DOWN!’

She hated the sound of bullets.

Chapter Text

"If you love me, really love me"

They got there just in time. Half a second later and Christina Rose’s sniper would have blown Linc’s head. One by one, the other bodyguards were being taken down, and Alexander knew it wasn’t because of Self: from the rooftop where Christina tried to end her son’s life, he could see the two individuals inside the Jeep flawlessly shooting all the targets. Then the car took off, an uneasy feeling forming in his stomach.

‘Hey, I found Linc.’ A breathless Self distracted him enough to lose sight of Kellerman and Brie. ‘But the guy who Christina sent is dead… I found his cell phone, though.’

‘We can use that, let’s go.’

The cell phone was only helpful in getting some vague information related to Christina’s whereabouts. The Company’s technicians needed about an hour to track a location, and by that time, Mrs. Scofield would probably be somewhere else. They were falling behind: Krantz wanted Scylla by the end of the day and they didn’t have anything yet. Correction: they didn’t have anything they wanted to show him yet. Linc was reluctant to tell Krantz that his mother was behind all of this; maybe it was because he felt betrayed or because of unresolved feelings, he didn’t know. But what Alexander did know was that the moment Krantz knew about Christina’s involvement, the moment that none of them would be useful anymore. And on his terms, that meant death.

‘Alex, can I talk to you for a second?’

‘What’s going on?’

‘Michael is in town… and he wants to meet but…’

‘Linc, you cannot risk going out again. At least for today… I’ll go.’

‘Thank you, Alex. I appreciate it… Try to figure out what he knows… If there’s someone who truly knows my mother, it’s Michael. They are basically the same person.’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

The meeting was at the beach: there were two silhouettes that he had become quite familiar with, a tall man with a buzz cut and a red-haired woman. But Alexander didn’t see them until he was a few feet away from them; he was distracted. It’s been hours and he hadn’t had any news on Brie. How can you trust the man who shot you with the love of your life? Kellerman had tried to kill him in the past, and as much as he had helped Brie these past days, something was not sitting right with him. He had learnt not to trust people who had returned from the dead. Why was he there? He tried to remember anything that could have indicated he had a particular interest in Brie, but he could only recall that the Company had taken someone from him and was trying to get them back. Was he referring to Brie? How come if he had never ever talked to her?

‘Hello Alex.’ Sara’s voice took him out of his trance.

‘Glad to see you both in one piece.’

‘Where’s my brother?’ No greeting from Michael. He sounded both angry and annoyed. Not a good sign.

‘He’s not coming.’

‘Your job at the Company keeps you both busy, right?

‘I came here so we can talk.’

‘So? What do you know, Alex?’

‘Your mother. She has Scylla. Whoever’s gonna get it has to go through her.’

‘I need to speak to my brother.’

‘Well he’s not coming. He’s a little bit busy trying to stay alive because… because your mother tried to kill him. And if you pretend to stay here with a half-baked plan she’s gonna try and kill you.’

‘And we need to trust you because? As far as we know, anything that we may have discovered is going to end on Krantz’s hands the minute we stop talking.’

‘It’s not all black and white, Sara. They have threatened the people that we love, so we don’t have much choice… That doesn’t exclude the fact that we also want to take down the Company. And if I have to side with Krantz right now, I will, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not coming down.’

‘How? How did you decide that Krantz was the less bad option between him and my mother? How are you taking him down when he recovers his black box?’

‘I… I still don’t know that part, but I know we will. That’s why I’m asking you, please, trust me. We can do it together. Do you have anything that may help?’

‘The only thing that I know is that we are going to burn the Company to the ground with or without you in it, Alex. Come on Sara, let’s go.’ Michael grabbed Sara’s hand and started to walk away but she didn’t move.

‘Wait. Where’s Brie, Alex? Did you drag her to your new hell? Last time I spoke to her, she was about to ditch you after you had that meeting with your FBI buddies.’

‘Actually, she was the one who convinced me to come here and help Linc…’

‘You’ve got to be kidding me… Well, where is she? I need to speak with her.’

‘That’s a good question.’

Yeah. Where the hell was Brie?

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The advantage was that Paul Kellerman also served in the military, just like Alexander. He knew how to handle a gun; he was precise, strategic, and the best part, he didn’t ask questions. Shortly after they got rid of the bodyguards, she distinguished Alexander’s silhouette, but before she could do anything else, Kellerman instructed her to go somewhere safer. She didn’t like to receive orders from others (not even Alexander’s anymore), but she understood.

‘All of you don’t realize the mess you’ve got yourself into.’

‘Don’t you say.’

‘Christina Rose is one of the most intelligent people the Company has ever had. She’s a genius.’

‘An evil genius.’

‘You could say that. She must be planning something big, and everything is already meticulously planned.’

‘Like the man who tattooed himself with the blueprints of a prison and all his plan to break out his brother.’

‘Genetics is a powerful thing; you know?’

‘I don’t know really, but I get your point.’ He looked at her long and hard. She didn’t expect that talking to Paul Kellerman would be that easy. Suspiciously easy. They were getting close to a tunnel and that’s when the warning alarm turned on in her brain. Last time she was in a tunnel with Kellerman, Alexander almost died. And now she was alone and he had a gun: she had emptied hers taking down Christina’s men, but he still had some bullets left. Her only advantage was that she was driving, and if he tried to kill her, he would be dead as well. She pushed the pedal a little further.

‘I don’t think anybody is following us… You can pull over, Brie.’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘What? What’s going on?’

‘As long as I’m pressing this pedal, you can’t fucking kill me. And if you try, well… there’s a fucking cliff right next to us.’

‘Where the fuck is this coming from?! Pull over!’

‘No!’

‘Brie!’

‘Why the fuck are you helping me?! You tried to kill us, remember?!’

‘Mahone was instructed to kill me first! I never intended to hurt him! And I’m sorry!’

‘Oh yeah? Say that to his perforated spleen!’

‘You were never the objective! I’d kill myself before something happens to you! I wanted to save you!’

The sound of screeching wheels resounded through the tunnel. ‘You know? I’m getting fucking tired of people saying that. So, if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on with you, I’m leaving. And you’ll regret it if you try to reach me again.’

‘Fine! I cannot tell you anything concrete right now, but the truth is that my sister and I…’

Up to that point, Brie hadn’t taken her eyes off Kellerman, she was studying him, trying to figure out his true intentions. Her phone ringing didn’t bother her until she realized who was calling. ‘Hold on. I need to take this. He’s going to freak out if I don’t answer.’

‘Marital problems?’

‘Wow. You should be a comedian. I freaked him out implying that I might die today.’

‘Thanks for that vote of confidence.’

‘Shut up.’ Taking a deep breath, she answered the call. ‘I’m alive what’s going on?’

‘Why didn’t you call sooner? I was freaking out.’

‘Some… stuff going on.’

‘Sarah and Michael are here.’

‘Oh.’

‘He wants to take Christina down by himself. They have some information, but he won’t give it to us because he’s mad at Linc… and us for working with the Company.’

‘Understandable. What do we have right now?’

‘We were able to track Christina’s location down to the Indian Embassy. She was meeting with Naveen Banerjee, the minister’s son.’

‘What was she trying to do?’

‘We think that she might wanted to sell them Scylla, but we didn’t get that far. We just found a post-it that said “Vincent, 4:30”. We are still trying to figure it out.’

She could notice Kellerman signalling her to put Alexander on hold. He had taken off his shades and his face showed a mixture of concern and intrigue; Brie also noticed a wrinkle that formed right between his eyebrows.

‘Alexander hold on. What?’

‘When President Reynolds and I became involved with the Company, there was this guy, Vincent Sandinsky, some sort of scientist who was in charge of environmental things. I didn’t see Christina in those reunions, but I also don’t think there was another Vincent working there at the time.’

‘Why does the Company need an environment expert?’

‘Scylla contains many things related to the Company, one of them is the information of some experiments that were done underwater to develop alternative energy sources for climate change.’

‘That doesn’t sound bad at all.’

‘It’s not. But that information is worth billions… Hundreds of nations would do anything to get it.’

‘India might be the first step… and then China, Japan, Russia… She gets billions, they start a war.’

‘Exactly.’

‘Alexander?’

‘Yeah, Brie, you never hit the hold button. Hello Kellerman.’

‘Mahone.’

‘We’ve got a name, but what does the 4:30 mean?’

‘Where’s Sandinsky right now?’

‘He was a lecturer in Canada as far as I remember.’

‘Perhaps a phone call? A meeting? The airport?’

‘I can talk with the Company folks, see if they can track something.’

‘Mahone? They can’t know that I’m alive. The fact that you know is not only putting me at risk, but also Brie as well.’

‘You are unbelievable. If you think I’m gonna let you or anyone-’

‘Alexander, please.’

‘Fine. Give me a sec.’

‘Wow. I was only messing with you but I guess the rumors were true. He’s down bad for you.’

‘The cliff is still very close by, Kellerman… and I need to tell you something about that… Krantz-’

‘Hello? I’ve got some information: Vincent Sandinsky is arriving at 4:30 at the Everglade Memorial Airport.’

‘It’s almost four… You need to get him before Christina does.’

‘Mahone, Sandinsky may look like a total nerd but he knows stuff… He may try to deny he’s involved with the Company and Christina. Let him think you believe him.’

‘Gotcha. Brie, are you coming with us?’

‘I’ll try to get hold of Sara… We need to work together if we want this to be over.’

‘Okay… I’ll see you later… Please take care, ok?’

‘Don’t worry Mahone, I’ll take care. See ya, bye.’

‘You are an asshole.’

‘And you were about to tell me something.’

‘Krantz knows that you are alive… I don’t know how or when, but he knows. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be. I was expecting that one day this would happen. But Christina Rose is the biggest threat right now. He might forget about me for some days.’

‘Sorry as well for trying to kill you.’

‘Are you going to apologize for everything right now? Or can we go to the airport?’

‘Sorry. Let’s go.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Mahone played his role very well. They agreed that, for now, he should be the only one knowing that Sandinsky was actively working with Christina. They needed to see how far his lies would go before either the Company or Christina would notice that he was there. So, he played the role of protector for that “clueless and helpless professor,” much to the disdain of Michael and Sara, who happened to be there for the same purpose.

Brie observed the scene in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to follow Sara and Michael. Kellerman drove her there but fled the scene a few minutes before Sandinsky’s plane landed. He couldn’t risk being seen by anyone, especially Sara. When he told her about the many things he had done to her to get rid of her on the Company’s orders, she almost threw him off the cliff again.

But if she had done that, she would be a hypocrite. There was this silent agreement among “the Company defectors,” where their actions were not justified but understood. The veil of death and murder would follow them for the rest of their lives, and either they cope with that or succumb to the darkness. Paul Kellerman is the live example: that day, his reflection showed him a pathetic excuse with a military costume, with a shiny gun loaded to end it all. Kristine’s call came in just in time. It was her sadness combined with four words that made him go to that courtroom to testify and accept his guilt, taking Sara off her charges and face a lifetime imprisonment. Of course, other things happened after that, but that was another story.

He was meeting with other defectors later that day. For the first time, he wasn’t lying: he was pulling his strings to help Michael and his friends on the quest he didn’t have the guts to start. Before starting the car, Kellerman took from his jacket the piece of paper that Kristine gave to him, to keep him focused on his mission.

“Do it for her.”

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

‘WHAT?!’

‘Quiet!’

‘OMG!’

‘Brie, shut up!’

‘I physically can’t’

Sara had no other option but to place the adhesive tape that was meant to restrain Christina Rose on her friend’s mouth. Even with her muffled screams, she was able to figure out what she was saying, and she couldn’t blame her: you just don’t disappear for weeks and return just for the first words to come out of your mouth to be “hey, I think I’m pregnant!” Her mistake, but she was freaking out. Michael didn’t know, and the timing couldn’t be worse. They were about to kidnap her mother-in-law, probably the most dangerous woman in America at that moment; they were desperately looking for Scylla to get it before Lincoln and the General; they were trying to find the connection between Christina, Scylla, and the Indian Embassy. It was too much. And then there was their kid.

‘Well, now you know. Michael will be arriving in a few minutes… you should go.’

‘And miss the Christina Rose interrogation? No thank you.’

‘Brie… I… I wasn't thinking straight when I let you in. You are working with Mahone, and the two of you are working with Lincoln and the Company. Michael doesn’t want to deal with any of that, and if he sees you here…’

‘He’ll see someone willing to cooperate. We want the same thing; if we are fighting between us, we are missing the big picture.’

‘I don’t want to sound mean, but exactly what have you figured out? You seem like you’ve got nothing… Last time he talked with Lincoln-‘

‘Krantz sent him and the rest pictures of their loved ones. It was a direct threat, and if you remember, he was the one who received your “head” in a box. He’s scared and desperate.’

‘We… don’t understand why Sandinsky is working with her.’

‘That one is easy: she needs him to understand and back up Scylla so she can sell it.’

‘To whom.’

‘Initially India, but I don’t think her intentions are so pure that she wants to help them to grow.’

The sound of the door opening startled them. Sara grabbed Brie’s hand and hid her in the bathroom while she helped Michael tie Christina to a chair. They agreed that he would conduct the interrogation, while Sara would investigate further about Vincent. Michael didn’t sound like himself and Brie could tell. He was nervous, and he was improvising. This wasn’t going to end well.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“I know you. That’s why you’ll never be able to manipulate me like you do the rest of the world.”

“You’re running out of time.”

He had the same look as Alexander when they talked to each other the first time, when Michael figured out the Shales thing and went to visit Pam. Alexander’s world crumbled down on that occasion: not only was his ego bruised, but he also found he didn’t have any control. Michael was lost. He had encountered his equal, and even his superior.

‘What the hell is she doing here?’

‘Michael, she’s helping me with the Vincent thing-‘

‘She’ll tell Krantz everything.’

‘I won’t. It’s nice seeing you again, Michael.’

‘I don’t even want to talk to you… Sara, I can’t. It’s like she can predict everything I’m going to say.’

‘You are going to crack under pressure, Michael. You need someone she doesn’t know.’

‘Shut up! Don’t talk.’

‘Michael… you need someone with a fresh perspective. Someone she doesn’t know.’

‘I guess that’s right.’

‘Hey I said that.’

‘But I need more time, I don’t want to expose you like that…’

‘I wasn’t talking about me, I was thinking about Brie-‘

‘Be right back.’

‘He doesn’t know how to do this.’

‘What?’

‘Taking out information from a person. In a bad way. Which is good because that means that your man has a heart. But he’s facing something bigger than him. And he’s improvising. Sara, I studied Michael for weeks, and I know nothing about how his mind works compared to Christina. So when I tell you that I think he’s failing, she totally knows what’s going on.’

They were interrupted once again by Michael. This time, he was dragging her mother through the floor into the bathroom. He opened the bathtub faucet to the highest temperature and threatened to force her hair into the boiling water. Maybe Brie had underestimated him.

‘Where is Lincoln?!’

‘All right, fine. There’s an energy conference at the Panda Bay Hotel in about an hour. He’ll be there.’ Christina turned around to see both women who were watching the scene, but Michael quickly dragged them out and closed the door.

‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what to think.’

‘She’s got into you, Michael. I told you.’

‘Do you really think Lincoln is there?’

‘Only one way to figure out.’

‘Wait.’ Michael’s voice was barely audible. ‘She’s listening.’

‘As if you didn’t know me, Scofield.’

‘Brie?’

‘Alex, are you at the hotel?’

‘How? Where are you?’

‘Alex, are you at the hotel?’

‘Yes, yes I am.’

‘Did you find the surprise?’

‘No?’

‘I’ll spoil it for you. We are leaving, give Lincoln the fake Scylla.’

‘When he comes out of the conference, I’ll do it.’

‘I know it is dangerous. But we have already risk enough.’

‘I agree. See you soon.’

‘Did you understand?’ They were back to whispering

‘Yes, I need to go. Thanks, Brie.’

‘Wait, what?’

‘I need to catch up with Alexander as well, I’ll explain to you later. Are you okay staying here?’

‘She’s tied up. I have a loaded gun. I’ll be fine.’

‘Take care, see you soon.’

On the other side of the line, Self’s confused face made Alexander laugh. They were standing right in front of the hotel, trying to study the environment to help Linc escape: the idiot went right after Christina’s bodyguard, and entered the building without any plan. Everything could happen there, and something (a part from Brie) told him it was nothing good.

‘The plan sounds… about right.’

‘That’s not the plan.’

‘What?’

‘I know the plan, it’s just not what you all heard.’

‘What? How?’

‘Brie has never called me Alex in seven years of knowing each other. That’s how I knew someone was listening to her. Calling me Alex was her way of saying that none of the message is true except what she hid. “Are you in the hotel?” are five words. Every five words there was a true word. Surprise, you, Lincoln, dangerous, risk… my best guess. It’s a trap specifically for Linc.’

‘I’m not in the mood for your eccentricities, but I guess it’s fine. We need to fix this.’

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The aftermath of the events was nothing but a disaster: Brie was correct, it was all a trap. Naveen Banerjee was murdered at the conference, and Christina and her men planned everything to frame Lincoln and get rid of him. Michael was able to help him, but in the end, Krantz and the Company had to get their hands dirty and help them. And Scylla was nowhere to be found. They reunited at the apartment: Alexander, Brie, Michael, Lincoln, Self, T-Bag, Krantz and one of his men.

‘You need to take responsibility for your failures.’

‘Hey, we failed nothing! It was a setup and you know it!’ Lincoln was the most wanted man in America right now. He “killed” a representative of a country on American grounds and that was far worse than the time he “killed” the president’s brother.

‘Wow, Lincoln Burrows was outsmarted. How unusual.’ Krantz began writing things on post-its and he put them inside a bowl. ‘When I sent you those envelopes, I wasn’t just playing games. I made it very clear that you needed to accomplish your job, or there would be consequences.’ He stopped stirring the papers and took one out. He showed it to his assistant, and the man began dialling out to someone.

The screams on the other line were gut-wrenching. Krantz did it. It only took one phone call to make a life crumble into pieces. It was selfish to think like that, but Alexander was unbelievably grateful that it wasn’t his or Brie’s. The victim was Self’s wife: when they were at the warehouse, Self told him that she was dead, but in reality, she was in a vegetative state after Self, drunk as hell, caused a car accident that left her in that state and also killed their unborn kid. Filled with guilt, Self wanted to use the Scylla money for a miraculous treatment that supposedly would bring her back. But now she was gone.

‘Who’s next? Or do you want to join your wife?’

Out of all the possible options, Self did the stupidest one. He jumped out of the window, landing directly into the water, followed by dozens of bullets. Did he make it? Who knows.

‘WE HAD A DEAL MOTHERFUCKER!’

‘Oh yes Jones? Where is your end of the deal?’

‘Being ten steps in front of you as usual. We now have confirmation that she “sold” Scylla or at least she’s getting something in advance. If I were her, I’d want confirmation that the money is safely overseas before she flees the country. If she doesn’t want to wait the mandatory three business days for international wire transfer clearance, she needs to go to a Federal Reserve signatory. So all we need to do is find one in Miami and we find her and Scylla.’ She didn’t blink while saying all of that. She was staring at Krantz, with that murderous look in her face that Alexander was no longer used to.

‘There, Jones, you see, that’s why I didn’t put your name in the bowl. You get the job done. Not even Wyatt was capable of that. Nice to see that well-oiled machine finally working for me.’

‘Be ready to call your contacts and cancel their missions to murder the others.’

‘Pam, L.J., Sofia, and T-Bag’s mom will stop having a gun pointed to their heads the moment you hand me Scylla.’

‘We leave in ten minutes. I’ll get my guns.’

Alexander was too stunned to speak, and he had this sensation that he had to get something off his chest. Brie entered their room, so Alexander had approximately 1 second to decide if he was about to do what he needed to do. He followed her.

‘I know what you are doing.’

‘I just want to get this all over with.’

‘Me too. But scarifying yourself in the process is not the plan.’

‘Everyone will be happy and free. Krantz will be my last murder and then I’ll escape. It will take me longer but it’s the same result.’

‘You don’t know that’s going to happen. There’s too much at stake!’

‘It’s worth the try! I won’t let more people die because of our mistakes. I’m the one who has less to lose. Linc has Sofia and L.J., Michael and Sara are having a baby, you… you can try again with Pam. I’ve nothing left to lose, I’m the obvious choice for this suicidal mission.’

‘Krantz knows about us. I mean about me, or you, or us, whatever.’

‘What do you mean?’

Alexander slowly opened the hidden pocket inside his suit. As he unfolded the picture, she recognized the moment: they were leaning onto the van, waiting outside the police station on Oswego, while Bellick was trying to catch the Fox River’s eight. They had a mischievous look in their eyes, as they knew he was not going to catch them. She could barely recall the journalist who was taking pictures for the local newspaper.

‘This was inside my envelope as well. Not only Pam’s picture.’

‘Why they didn’t send it to me?’

‘They are playing games. They are trying to make you think you have nothing else to make you join them and do crazy missions for them. But it’s not true. I’m here. I care about you. Brie, I love you.’

‘Don’t say it because everything is falling apart. There’s no other end.’

‘Brie, I am in love with you. And I’ve been in love with you for a very long time. Even before Sona. You listen to me, you hold me when I can’t deal with myself, you have always been there…’

‘So, you are saying you love me because I listen to you and I understand your problems? In that case go ask on a date your therapist, basically same job-‘

‘I love how your wrinkle appears whenever you don’t understand something. I love how you always do three knots in your right boot and two in your left because you prefer the right one for kicking. I love how you've mastered the art of doing your bun in three minutes, and how gorgeous you look with your hair loose. I love that you sleep on your left side at the beginning, switch to your back at midnight, and then you wake up on your right side. I love your intelligence and your wit. I love that you are incredible at your job without stopping being sensitive and kind, no matter how much you try to hide it. I love all of that and more. And I’m not saying it because we are involved in the craziest mission of our lives and we are probably going to fail. I’m saying it because it’s true and if we die, I just want you to know that I love every part of you and that in another universe, I’d spend the rest of my life adoring you. So yeah, if things don’t go as planned, I’ll mourn you and probably die as well.’

Brie remained silent, just staring at him. Alexander wanted to scream but that would grab attention and the ten minutes were almost over. It was time to go. She finished gathering her stuff and he let out a big sigh, defeated. She was never going to love him back, that ship had sailed, he was a stupid, stupid, stupid-

‘Alexander?’

‘Yes?’

‘I love you too.’