Prologue

Well I had a dream
I stood beneath an orange sky
Yes I had a dream
I stood beneath an orange sky
With my brother standing by
With my brother standing by
I said, "Brother, you know you know
It's a long road we've been walking on
Brother, you know it is you know it is
Such a long road we've been walking on."

Fight through the pain. Those were always the first words that came to mind before he walked through the door.

The buzzing noise was something his ears had adapted to. He would even like to say that the pain was something he adapted to as well, but it still hurt. The needle that painted the ink into his skin still brought him pain, but he suffered through it willingly. There was nothing else he could do but just suffer through it. Time was running short, and he needed to stay on schedule. Everything else was set, and this was the last piece of the puzzle. Tomorrow, everything could be set into motion.

The buzzing stopped and silence overtook the room. The blonde male – Stefan Salvatore – took in the newest addition to the pattern inked into his skin, scrutinizing every detail. He had been very specific about what he wanted, and he made sure he hadn't hired an amateur tattoo artist for this job. He wasn't the kind of person you'd expect to have a tattoo. Most of the time, you would find him wearing a suit. His line of work expected that kind of appearance.

The lady painting his skin, however, was the kind of person society would expect to be littered with tattoos. Odds are, he had more ink on his body than she did.

She broke the silence first. "Wow," she breathed, looking at the completed tattoo before her. It might have been his masterpiece, but she was the one who brought it to life. "Can I just—Can I take a picture of it? I mean—wow."

"No," his voice broke through. He hadn't spoken since he gave her the information for the last piece of the puzzle. "I can't let you do that." He knew she meant well, but anyone else having photographs of it besides him wasn't something he was willing to risk. The prison would already get them, and he didn't need one other person having them. Stefan reached for the shirt that had been discarded when he walked through the door, his arms sliding through the sleeves and immediately buttoning up the shirt to cover it up.

"Most guys take a couple of years to get all the ink you just got in a couple of months," she stated, appearing to have given up on her photo opportunity.

"I don't have that long." He handed the woman the money he owed her before exiting out the door. The tattoo artist Wendy had come to realize that Stefan was a man of few words. At least, he was to her. He didn't explain why he was here for the tattoo. He sure didn't look like the type, but who was she to question what he wanted?

Stefan was in his car as swiftly as possible, driving through the streets of Chicago until he reached his apartment. He worked as a structural engineer, and it made good money. What's the use of money though when most of the people you care about are gone, or on their way out?

Taking long strides across his apartment, Stefan stops in front of the wall that he had spent months standing in front of and planning. Newspaper articles and miscellaneous papers were taped to the wall. Important facts were circled in red. It was all of his research; everything he needed to know. After taking one swift look at it, his hands touched the wall as he ripped down every single piece. Everything was going straight into the shredder. He couldn't leave any evidence behind, as they'd likely be here in just over a month if everything went according to plan. The first place they'd check would be his apartment.

After getting rid of the paper evidence, he pulled his hard drive out of his computer. He held it in his hand for a moment before walking towards the nearby window. He opened it, took one brief look at the technology in his hand, before he tossed out of the window. Below his apartment building was the Chicago River, and he imagined by time anyone potentially found that hard drive, it'd be long dead.

He turned, scanning his room for anything that could a potential clue. Tomorrow was the big day, and nothing was going to screw it up.

Bang.

Screams erupted as he brought the gun down. He had no intention of killing anyone, but if he wanted to cause a scene, he needed to pretend he meant business. Pieces from the ceiling fell around him as he pointed the barrel at the woman hiding behind her desk.

"Open the vault," he stated, painting a look of malice across his face.

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't have the authority—"

"Then find someone who does." He knew she had already pressed the button. He had been busy tying up the other hostages, and he knew the woman and hit the red button that would mean the police were on their way. Right now, it was just a waiting game. He had hoped the Chicago police would be faster than this.

The woman slowly moved as if she was going to go find someone, but the sirens were coming. He wasn't a good enough actor to pretend he was disappointed in this. It's what he wanted. Everyone just mistook him for a crazed man, pleased by his actions.

"Police! Turn around and put down your weapon!"

He turned around slowly, raising the one hand holding the gun. He reached into his suit coat and pulled out the other gun hiding inside. He held them both for the CPD to see for a brief moment before tossing them to the ground. The men in blue came rushing forward, aggressively pulling his hands behind him and cuffing him.

They were relieved that he was coming easily. For once, the bank robber wasn't putting up a fight. Stefan took a moment to wonder how they didn't think anything was strange about his behavior, but he wasn't going to point it out to them. This is how he planned on it ending.

"Do I understand this correctly? Your plea is guilty?" the judge looked at him skeptically. Stefan Salvatore sat in his seat, looking almost relaxed. He was dressed in one of his suits, looking more like an attorney than someone who was being charged with bank robbery.

"No—"

"Yes, your honor," Stefan broke through, his eyes glancing over at the voice who tried to say no. It was the voice of Elena Gilbert. He couldn't tell you how long he had known her at this point. Elena was his brother's ex-girlfriend and a long time close friend. She also happened to be an attorney, and after the news of Stefan's arrest had reached her ears, she had immediately come to his defense.

She turned to face him, bending down and making sure her voice was quiet. "What are you doing?" She might have been whispering, but the tone in her voice was urgent.

"I'm accepting responsibility for my crime." His words were only answered with a bewildered expression.

"Defendant and counsel, please approach the bench."

Stefan stood up, and the two walked over to stand in front of the judge together. She wasted no time delivering her news.

"I'm quite surprised at your plea of no contest, Mr. Savlatore. This is rare when it comes to armed robbery. But, what's done is done, and it's on to your sentence." The woman paused, looking at the man across from her. "Given your lack of prior criminal conduct, probation was the first to come to mind, but given the fact you discharged a deadly weapon during your crime suggests malice to me. For that reason, I find it incumbent that you see the inside of a prison cell."

He kept his face blank, but he inwardly checked off the next phase of his plan as complete.

"The closest level one facility would be Fox River—"

"Level one?" Elena finally protested. For some reason, Stefan seemed dead set on what he was doing. She could guess what he was doing. He was trying to get closer to Damon. Elena had known him since they were children, and this wasn't like him. There wasn't an evil bone in his body.

"I'd advise you not to interrupt me, counsel," the judge replied sternly. Elena let out a sigh, but she didn't say a word in response to the judge. She didn't want to make it worse. "As I was saying, the closest facility is Fox River Penitentiary, and you'll be sentenced at five years. In half that time, you'll be eligible for parole. Court dismissed."

People began to shuffle around as some exited and others entered. Stefan turned slightly to spot his nephew sitting in the courtroom. His face fell in that moment, unaware that his teenaged nephew had been sitting there the whole time.

"Uncle Stef?" he finally said from across the courtroom.

"I didn't want you to see this," Stefan stated ruefully before he was cuffed by the bailiff and directed towards the holding cell. Elena was naturally hot on their trail, and as soon as the cell was shut, Elena turned to face the bailiff.

"Can I have a minute with my client?"

The man nodded, giving the attorney a moment with her client before she was forced to do this. "I know you, Stefan. This isn't you, and I get it. You're just doing this to be closer to him… but look at what you're doing. He wouldn't want you to ruin your life. Five years in prison isn't worth this."

Stefan didn't say a word at first, instead choosing to take a seat. He looked at his hands before back up at her. "Thank you, Elena. Thank you for trying to help me, but I don't need your help. I don't—I don't want your help."

Her eyes stared him down, willing for him to explain what was going on in his head and why he had chosen to do something so drastic that wouldn't give him positive results. Was this some kind of crazy attempt at closure? She already lost Damon to the prison walls; she didn't want to lose Stefan too.

"Time's up," a voice broke through, silencing any more discussion.

A sigh escaped her lips as she walked away, her shoulder's slumping in defeat. As she walked into the main lobby of the courthouse, her eyes were directed towards the television that was broadcasting the latest news on the Damon Salvatore case. She only caught the tail end of it, but she knew right away she didn't want to listen to it anymore. Damon Salvatore, a notorious criminal and the only man currently on death row in the state of Illinois, was all anyone wanted to talk about these days.

"Damon Salvatore, guilty of killing the Vice President's brother, is scheduled to die in just over one month's time—"

One month was all Stefan had, and while Elena didn't see that as time worthwhile to spend in a prison cell, Stefan saw otherwise. Breaking out of a prison isn't impossible – not if you designed the place.

A/N: This is my first story being published on , as I usually stick strictly to roleplaying. I've had this idea in my head for awhile, so hopefully you will all enjoy it just as much as I have been spazzing about it for the last few days! It's based off of one of my favorite shows - Prison Break. It won't be following the show to a T, but I will be taking parts from it, along with adding my own bits.

I will say that this is going to be very slow burn when it comes to the romance, as developing the plot is going to be more important. There will be romance included though, but due to the nature of the story, I don't recommend it if you're only reading strictly for romance. And there will also be more ships than Steroline & Delena, but those are the heaviest ones c:

Read and review please! You can also contact me on Tumblr if you have any questions. My URL is the same as my penname - caremikaelson. Thanks so much :D