Hey guys! So, I've been obsessing over Dominic Purcell lately and his performances in DC's Legends of Tomorrow and Prison Break. While I definitely want to do a fanfic with Mick Rory and an OC, I'm a bit farther in Prison Break than I am in Legends of Tomorrow. And since I have grown to love Lincoln so much, of course I had to do a fanfic for him. I hope you guys enjoy and this will follow the series as best as possible. If some timeline points I make are inconsistent with the actual canon, just let me know and I'll be sure to fix it. I just really wanted to make a decent fic with Lincoln as the focal point with an OC instead of Michael with an OC. And forgive me if Paige's story sounds way too much like Sara's. I promise, the most that they'll have in common is that they both work in the medical field and at Fox River. And they fall in love with an inmate of course. My bad, but these two are way too lovable for words. Let me know if any qualities start to bleed into one another. Also, if there are any inconsistencies of what psychology actually entails, please let me know as well. I am not a psychology major. I am basing some of Paige and her knowledge on what I know from Sidney Freedman from M*A*S*H*. Probably not the best basis, but he is one of the few that I have. Apart from that, I hope you guys enjoy and please let me think of this first chapter. Thanks!

Disclaimer: Prison Break nor its characters are owned by me. They are the property of Paul Scheuring. I only own Paige.

Three years ago

She wasn't cut out to be there; she was supposed to be in a fancy office building surrounded by nic-nacs and shelves lined with books she would never read. Instead, she had ended up as a therapist in a place like Fox River Penitentiary, caring for the mental health of murderers and rapists.

The newest one she had been assigned, Lincoln Burrows, was at the top of America's hit list. Killing the Vice President's brother tended to do that to your reputation. And she was not looking forward to the first meeting.

When the orders from the Pope came to her to do a preliminary psych eval on a new inmate, she was up to the task. She'd done evaluations like this all the time, searching for motive in the minds of killers like him. But, opening the file and seeing the charges, a pit had opened in her and she felt like it would swallow her up. He was her first death row case and it killed her to know the hard work she would put into him would go up in smoke in three year's time; it felt like talking to a suicidal patient, but not taking the knife away from them. Things like this, preparing a man for his final days before he was executed, were not the reasons she had pursued a career in psychology.

The guard allowed her into Burrows' cell, turning on a brighter light, giving her a better look at the man inside. He was a large man, but she had seen bigger in gen pop; he just looked thicker than the ones she often talked to. She could see the tattoos peaking out from beneath the sleeves of his shirt; that, combined with the close crop hair, made him more intimidating somehow. She prayed to God this man wasn't somehow going to make her life a living hell.

"Mr. Burrows."

He looked up at her as she addressed him, his dark blue eyes meeting her green ones.

"I'm Dr. Paige Andrews. Is it all right if we talk?"

He gestured to the bed as he was sitting down by the wall across from it, his head resting on the concrete slab behind him. "Sure, Doc."

"Thank you," she told the guard and he allowed her to step inside before closing the cell door behind her. She assessed the situation a moment then took Burrows on his offer, much preferring sitting to standing on a concrete floor in heels.

She opened her notebook, grabbing a pen from her purse to begin writing her notes.

"So, tell me a bit about yourself." She tried to sound as chipper as she would in a normal office setting, but quickly reminded herself of her surroundings, and her patient for that matter. "Sorry, um, just tell me what comes to mind."

Without skipping a beat, "I think this is stupid, them sending a shrink in here to evaluate the guy they're getting ready to execute in a few years. Seems a bit redundant."

"Maybe," she sighed, clasping her hands hands together, "but the Pope wanted me down here, whether you think it's stupid or not."

"Point taken."

He didn't say anything else for a while after that and it didn't bother her much; she'd had hour long sessions before where patients barely even strung two words together. If there was anything she'd learned, it was patience was a virtue, one she'd learned the hard way. Unfortunately, for him, she had nowhere else to be for a few hours and she was determined to get him to talk sooner rather than later. She hoped he chose sooner.

He looked up to meet her eyes and knew she wasn't leaving till she got something out of him. Well, might as well swallow his pride; otherwise, she'd never leave him alone.

"Uh, I have a brother named Michael. Younger brother."

"How much younger?"

"Few years."

She scribbled a few things down on the notepad. He couldn't see what it said from where he was sitting.

"Are you two close," she asked, looking over to address him again.

"We're all each other had."

"Where were your parents?"

He sighed. "Mom died from cancer when we were both young. Dad was a deadbeat; left before Michael was even born."

"That must have been hard. Your dad, I mean. Leaving you and Michael, and your mother all alone."

He scoffed. "I doubt he gave a damn."

She decided against moving forward on the subject of his dad and moving back to his brother. You could determine a lot about people based on how they talked about and interacted with their siblings. It helped show their place in the family, or what they thought it was. Show how protective the person was or how distant.

"Tell me more about your brother, Michael. What he does for a living, what he's like, your relationship.

He shrugged. "He's a genius; got himself through college and worked in some fancy building. Uh, he's loyal, a hardworker, never lets up when he gets something in his head."

They went back and forth for another thirty minutes; Paige asking questions as each new subject came up. She tried to keep it light though; this was the first meeting they'd had and she didn't want to make it the last by spooking him. Digging and putting pieces together took time; unfortunately, unlike the inmates in gen pop, Lincoln only had a set amount of time. She had to take advantage of what time they did have.

Clicking her pen closed, she stuck it back in her purse, prepared to go home and type up her first report on her new patient. She put her notebook in her bag, sliding the strap on her shoulder as she prepared to leave.

"Well, I'll see you next week," she said, beginning to walk to the door.

"Looking forward to it," he drawled, the sarcasm and distaste dripping from his words.

"Lincoln," she addressed him one last time before leaving. He looked at her as she continued to speak. "I'm sorry for all of this." And he could see the sincerity transparently on her face.

His face softened for a moment and she had to look closely to catch it. "It's not your fault, Doc."

"Even still..."

And, as they gave each other one last look, the guard slid the door closed, slipping the lock back into place.