A/N: Yes, I know...I've written another one. Maybe - I'm writing too many stories? I don't know. But I just saw episode 2:02 again and the part where Henry is in his office and has flashbacks of him and Michael just broke my heart. Their relationship was so father/son-like and I just...had to write this, I guess.

Please, tell me what you think?

XO

Henry Pope came home, to stay. At least for a some time...whatever the board decided. It wasn't that he didn't love it – home, his wife, the smell of memories, it was only the fact that Fox River was under his skin. It had been there ever since he had stepped foot in his office and placed their weddingpicture on the desk, next to his namesign.

He meant something in there. In here, he always felt a sense of failure. Henry had let his wife down more times than he should have and he didn't know why she stayed with him. He'd spent more time at the penitentiary than he had in her presence. But God knows he loved her more than anything.

That was what he had wanted to show her. Why he had asked Michael to help him with the gift. She would have loved it. Now the Taj was just as everything else in Henry's life : tainted. Smudged with bad memories that he had once treasured, up until the moment the talented inmate had pointed a knife at him. The words 'I am very fortunate to have met you' were cursed now and the deep appreciation – nearing love, for Michael was now a deep-rooted chestpain.

He'd smashed the Taj to pieces with a lamp. It hurt too much.

Now, he had nothing to give to Judy. Maybe he had never had something to begin with. And the worst part was that she would forgive him, like she had done in the past, time and time again. She would give him a small smile and tell him that it was okay, that she knew he was in a really stressful situation now and that she could wait. She shouldn't have to wait.

Henry often visited the Fox River chapel, deeply convinced that he didn't deserve forgiveness. Not from his wife, from William, or from God himself. The preacher talked him out of it, sometimes. It was always there.

Should he forgive Michael?

It was a burning question, wasn't it? Henry didn't know.

All he knew was that he was hurt. That he was home, to stay. At least for some time...

Judy came out of the kitchen with her red ovenmittens on and pointed with her whole hand towards the table. "A package came for you this morning."

His eyes darted towards the table, the dark wood contrasting the white of the box. He hung his coat on the hanger and slowly made his way towards it. It was important, he could feel it in his heavy heart. His finger traced the sharp edges of the box before he ripped the paper.

Judy watched from the doorway and saw her husband's pained expression soften when he looked at the snowglobe. It wasn't exactly a snowglobe, because the things surrounding the miniature Taj Mahal weren't small white flakes, but golden stars. "It's pretty," she said, before disappearing again to check on the roast.

Henry's eyes reflected the gold stars when he shook the small globe and he believed he could feel his heart breaking. Turning the gift around, he noticed the small piece of paper taped to the base.

I'm sorry.

He didn't need to question who it was from, because he simply knew.

Should he forgive Michael?

It was a burning question, wasn't it? Henry didn't know. But right now, he was leaning towards YES.

Did you like it?

XO