Author's Note:
First of all, meep meep meep, major spoilers for episode 4x08 to follow! Read at your own discretion.

I said in my previous Author's Note that I would like to see where the actual writers take the show, and that's what I'm doing. So part of this story is AU, part is canon, and I'm trying to go along. Hope this all still makes sense.

xxXXxx

Chapter 3

"Man, are you okay?"

Sucre's gaze on Michael was worried. Bellick was right, there was something going on here. He was in pain, and trying to hide it.

Michael feigned ignorance. "What?"

"You don't look so good. You got a headache or something?"

It was one of those rare moments where they were alone, where the rest of the group wasn't within earshot. Sometimes Sucre thought he would go crazy. You'd think having spent years in prison would make you unsusceptible to having a lot of people around you all the time, but this was different. He had moments where he just wanted to scream for everyone to leave him alone, to just give him a moment's peace.

"I'm fine," Michael answered noncommittally.

"Come on, papi, you're not fine. Even Bellick's noticed. You, Linc and Sara've had a lot of private meetings lately. What's with the headaches and the secrecy?"

"Look," Michael said maybe a little too sharply, "It's nothing, okay?"

It was enough for Sucre to know he wasn't welcome to press any further. And enough for him to know something was definitely up, something a little more serious than a tendency for migraines. He backed off.

"Look, man, you gotta to tell us if something's going on we should know about. We've got enough secret mongering around here to make people more paranoid than they should be." He pointed a finger at Michael. "Think about that."

With that, Sucre walked away. The pain in Michael's head lessened enough for his eyes to follow his friend across the room. Dammit, he thought to himself. Fernando was right. He would have to say something to them. And soon.

xxXXxx

"I have to tell them," Michael said to Sara and Lincoln.

They had assembled in the boat, as usual. Another private meeting, and he had been very much aware of Sucre's disapproving glance as the three of them climbed up the S.S. Minnow's ladder.

Both Lincoln and Sara looked at him. The fact that none of them reacted either positively or negatively compelled him to explain further. "Sucre's called me on it. Bellick's noticed. It's only a matter of time until they get suspicious to the point where we stop trusting each other."

"Trusting each other?" Lincoln snorted. "We're light years away from trusting each other. I don't trust any of these guys."

Michael cast his brother a punitive glance. "You trust them enough to work with them."

"Yeah, but not exactly by choice, is it?"

"That's beside the point, Linc. You know we need them if we wanna bring this to an end."

"Yeah," Lincoln snarled.

"What do you wanna tell them?" Sara asked.

Michael released a long breath. "The truth, I guess."

"But we haven't even figured out a plan yet. I can only fake so many prescriptions. And your blood pressure is still too high."

He hated to be reminded of all of that. He hated being at the mercy of the fragility of his own body. And they were running out of ideas fast. It was last night, lying in bed, waiting for sleep to come, that he had realized he needed to bring the others in on his dilemma.

"I know," he said, resigning to his fate. "The only way I can think of is getting Roland to help us with fake IDs and get the others involved in the rest of the plan."

He explained the operation to them. He wasn't sure if it was a sound plan, or a thorough one. The irony wasn't lost to him that when it came to stealing some of the most sensitive data in the country from some of the most dangerous men alive, he was a mastermind, but when it came to his own well-being and his own life, he was coming up empty.

xxXXxx

Something had gone terribly wrong. His plan had blown up right in their face, and now Roland was dead. Michael could still feel the life draining from him as he held his hand, as Roland's fingers went limp and Michael silently uttered a cry of rage inside that never made it to the surface.

It had all happened so fast, and then there was Sara extracting a bloody bullet from Sucre's waist right there on the warehouse table. And T-Bag and Wyatt. And Gretchen. Where had things gone wrong and blown them straight to hell?

Please, not now. Not now! he thought as he felt the first signs. His vision would suddenly blur for a second. It didn't take long for the pain in his head to start, sometimes fierce, sometimes just a dull ache he could ignore. Without excusing himself, he went to the bathroom.

Grabbing the edge of the sink, he waited for his punishment. Another man died today. He knew Roland wasn't the first to fall victim to this mission. Michael hadn't pulled the trigger, hadn't been the one to condemn Roland to his fate. Still, he felt responsible. And another explosive headache would not be punishment enough for that, not even close.

He heard the slight plop of the carmine drop of blood in the sink even before he realized his nose was bleeding again. This time the headache was strangely absent. He bent over the sink and watched the drops of blood coalesce, wishing for the ability to turn back time.

xxXXxx

Everything was different now. The atmosphere in the warehouse had gone from cool to icy. The tautness was almost tangible. It was so quiet. There was no chatter, no background noise. There was no one here.

Sara had tended to Sucre's medical needs. Thank God they still had the morphine from the ambulance, Fernando was out of it on one of the cots. No one knew where Sara had gone, she wasn't in the warehouse when Michael got back from tying Wyatt up in an abandoned structure close by. Lincoln and Bellick were watching him. Mahone had not stayed, and no one asked where he was going. He was fighting his own demons, and no one dared get in way.

Michael stole a glance at his watch. 7:42 PM. Sara couldn't have... Had she gone to meet with Gretchen after all? He still remembered the look in her eyes when he had told her Gretchen was still alive. He remembered how she had flinched and turned away when he wanted to console her. It had hurt him then and it hurt him now—but he understood. They kept talking about not having secrets, about getting closer and sharing their feelings. But deep down, they were both still fending for themselves.

The sound of the warehouse door opening startled him. Their eyes met as she tossed her brown leather bag carelessly into a corner. In her mind a tumble of images and emotions wouldn't keep still, but she knew something was horribly wrong as soon as she could read his eyes.

"What happened?" she asked, forgetting her own problems for a moment.

"Roland's dead."

"What?" she breathed. "How?"

"Wyatt got to him." He lowered his eyes, then met her gaze again. "He was ratting us out, Sara."

Her hand went to her forehead. Now it suddenly made sense. "He... he apologized to me. I thought he was talking about Vegas, but he... he meant..." She looked around the warehouse. "Where is everybody?"

"We caught Wyatt. Linc and Bellick are watching him. Alex... he took off. Fernando's still passed out."

She just nodded. It was all too much to take in.

Michael looked at her, his expression serious. "Did you go and meet Gretchen?"

She knew she couldn't lie to him. "Yes," she answered in a low voice.

Only the low hum of a cargo ship in the distance penetrated the silence that ensued. He searched for the answers on her face. "Is she...?"

"Alive? Yes, Michael, I didn't kill her."

It felt like a slap in his face. Had he really expected her to kill Gretchen?

Sara continued, her voice cool and level. "We came to a certain kind of arrangement. Let's leave it at that, shall we?"

He watched her, then slowly but silently nodded.

He had a feeling this would be the first night he'd be sleeping on his cot for weeks, the first night that Sara wouldn't make him feel welcome in the sparse sanctuary of her boat. There was not going to be a sharing of secrets here, not for a very long time.

xxXXxx