21. Bad Blood

"Dad, can we play too?"

Startled, Lincoln looked up from the computer screen to find LJ and Ben staring at him from the bedroom doorway. Whoops. He'd been so focused on his fantasy character progressing through each level that the real world had ceased to exist. He massaged his scalp. "But I was just about to attack with my crossbow. A few more minutes?"

Ben smirked. "Addictive, isn't it?"

"How 'bout you show LJ some of that biology textbook?" Lincoln suggested. "He missed his junior year of high school—he needs it."

"Daaad! You've been on the computer for over two hours now! It's our turn."

"Two hours?" Lincoln winced. "Uh, sorry 'bout that."

"It's a good thing my mom's not home," Ben said. "She'd be all over your case about 'excessive screen time' turning your brain to mush."

Lincoln's brain did feel rather soft and mushy. He forced himself to back away from the computer. "It's all yours. I gotta do some origami anyway. You got any colored paper?"

Ben nodded. He handed a pad of construction paper to Lincoln, then collapsed into his warm desk chair. He looked at Ben. "Wanna grab a chair from the kitchen and bring it in here? Let's sell the skins your Hunter got in the last round."

LJ returned, dragging a chair into the bedroom. He noticed his father folding a piece of red paper. "Whatcha working on, Dad?"

"Something your uncle asked me to make."

The three settled in to their respective tasks. After a while Ben turned to LJ. "So you really don't have to go to school?"

Lincoln lifted his gaze from the paper and exchanged a look with LJ.

"Um, nope, I guess."

"LJ will be going to school soon," Lincoln added.

Ben frowned. "I wish I'd been off school since June. That'd be sweet."

"Actually . . . " LJ shifted on the chair. "I haven't been to school since May."

"Why?"

Lincoln felt a catch in his throat as he watched his son squirm. This was his fault—another sin of the father. He sighed, thinking about his own dad. Aldo had brought the company's wrath down on the Burrows family, and successive generations continued paying the price for his mistake. "LJ's been through some bad things, Ben. He'd probably rather be in school right now than go through what he's faced."

"It must've been bad if you'd rather be in school," Ben said.

LJ didn't flinch. "Me and my dad were framed for murder."

Ben's eyes widened like a World of Warcraft mage, and he leaned back.

Lincoln watched Ben's reaction and felt a stab of pity for his son. He'd had to deal with people recoiling from him any time they recognized him, and now his son had inherited that mistrust as well.

"I watched them kill my mom, right in front of me." LJ's voice sounded numb. "Then they framed me for her murder."

Ben's mouth dropped open.

"LJ." Lincoln frowned. "That's a lot for anyone to take in. Give him some space."

LJ glared at his father. Then the hostility in his glassy blue eyes melted away, replaced by a look of sorrow so deep that it sheared into Lincoln like a knife through his chest.

After bounding off his chair, LJ flew out of the room.

Lincoln heard a door slide open.

Ben said, "He went on the balcony. Should I go talk to him?"

"Give him a minute." If his son was anything like him, he'd want to be left alone.

"H-H-He said some people killed his mom? Why? Who was it?"

"A secret service agent named Paul Kellerman." Lincoln's jaw clenched. The same guy my brother wants me to track down to ask for help. His hand curled into a fist. He was still trying to wrap his mind around that request.

"The secret service?" Ben squinted. "But they help the President, right? Why would they kill—"

"Listen, Ben, we've probably told you way too much already—don't worry about it." Lincoln appreciated why Michael hadn't wanted to involve Karina in their mess. Most people they'd drawn into the company's web had ended up dead. He thought about Tweener, who hadn't been much older than the blond boy sitting across from him.

"LJ will be alright." Lincoln sounded like he was trying to convince himself most of all. "Just keep playing your game, and I'll keep working on the origami."

Ben chewed his lip as he eyed the crumpled papers. "What exactly are you trying to make?"

He blew out a breath. "A rose."

"That doesn't look anything like a rose."

Lincoln narrowed his eyes. "Like you can do any better?"

Ben had an origami rose instructional video playing in seconds. He snatched a few pieces of paper and attempted to follow along.

"Ahhh." Lincoln watched the model create a few folds he'd missed and imitated the moves on the red paper. "That's what I was doing wrong."

"He's going way too fast!" Ben protested. "How'd you keep up with that dude?"

"Years of practice, kid." His airway constricted remembering the cranes he used to leave by Michael's bed. A small dark-haired boy sleeping all alone, curled up on the sheets. He cleared his throat. "Try something easier first, like a crane. I'm gonna get LJ." His son might want to practice origami—maybe he could woo a girl by making a rose for her someday. It sure had worked on Sara.

LJ didn't look at him as he stepped onto the balcony, but Lincoln could sense his shift of posture, the hardening of his face. He studied his son's tense profile, spotlighted by the pink hues of the setting sun. Saying nothing, he folded his body onto a deck chair and stared out at the marina.

After a beat, Lincoln broke the silence. "Must be tough to be around a guy who still has his mother."

LJ swallowed. "It's not fair."

"No, it isn't."

More silence.

"Hey, uh, Ben's trying to help me make the rose, but the kid's helpless. Do you still remember how to make origami like I taught you?"

"Of course."

"Good, 'cause I need your help in there. Wanna come in?"

LJ shrugged, but he did get out of his chair.

When they reentered Ben's bedroom, the fifteen year old threw a wadded-up ball of paper at them. "This is, like, impossible! I can't even make a stupid crane."

"You should see my Uncle Mike make a crane—it takes him like ten seconds," LJ boasted.

They spent the next hour attempting a rose, and with LJ's help, Lincoln created a masterpiece. He knew Sara would love it. "Okay, guys, seeing as Karina's not back yet, I'll make us some dinner." Observing their skeptical looks, his mouth tightened. "Hey, I can cook."

"I don't want pancakes for dinner, Dad."

"You think that's my only specialty? I can cook with the best of them."

Ben's chin dipped. "Should I be nervous? Maybe like google some recipes or something?"

"Shut it, kid," Lincoln ordered. "If you're so great on the computer, why don't you find me an address for Emily Morgan in LA? Work on that while I cook."

"Ugh." LJ wrinkled his nose. "You're actually sending that bracelet to her? Don't go out of your way just for Gretchen."

"It's not for Gretchen," Lincoln said. "It's for Sara. She asked me to do it."

~~o * o~~

"And he didn't like it very much when my son thought he was LJ's grandpa."

Michael grinned as he watched Karina adjust his IV. "I bet. Linc's sensitive about his age. He looked ancient when his head was shaved."

Her brows knitted. "Why was his head shaved?"

"It was before, uh, before the execution."

"Oh." Karina busied herself with the drip chamber, though it worked just fine.

"What's your son's name?"

A faint smile crossed her face. "Benjamin."

Michael studied her. "You should be with him, not with me."

"Well, I'll check in on him soon." She glanced at her watch. "He'll be okay—he's with Lincoln and LJ for now, at my place."

"So now you have three boys to take care of."

Karina laughed. "Is Lincoln really that bad?"

"I shouldn't say it like that. Linc's the one who took care of me when I was a kid."

"He did? Where were your parents?"

"They weren't around." He looked away.

There was a commotion outside and a man's voice floated through the door. "But Agent Wheatley should've already cleared me, Officer." The familiar gruff voice froze Michael in place.

"He did, sir," the guard said. "We just need to check your ID."

"Fine."

Michael paled.

"What's wrong?" Karina asked.

"This may be a good time to visit your son. My next visitor isn't happy with me—things might get ugly."

Intrigued, Karina looked up to find a man in his early sixties stride into the room.

Henry Pope aimed a sardonic look at Michael's chains and bandaged hands. "I see things haven't changed for you since Fox River."

Michael's mind was in overdrive, trying to understand the former warden's presence. He forced a light tone. "Still in restraints and in the infirmary, Henry."

When Henry's eyes roamed over Karina's strong frame, it seemed like he wondered if she was a repeat manipulation from Fox River as well.

Michael realized introductions were in order. "Dr. Karina Daniels, this is Henry Pope, former Warden at Fox River."

"The 'former' part of my title's all thanks to Michael." Henry pumped her hand as Michael's face flamed. "It's a pleasure, Doctor."

"Likewise, Mr. Pope."

"I'm glad you've been reinstated here at Coral Gables."

Karina's head tilted. "You . . .?"

Instead of answering her, he looked at Michael. "I heard you sustained more burns trying to help someone escape from prison. You're good at that."

Michael wasn't sure what to say.

"Are his burns serious?" Henry asked Karina.

Karina paused. "I'll let the patient tell you. If you promise not to harm him, I'll give you two some privacy."

"Harm him?" Henry blanched.

"Michael just finished telling me things may get ugly during your visit."

"I know you won't harm me," Michael rushed to explain. "It's just I know you're angry and disappointed with me, as well you should be. You were good to me, and I betrayed you. I deserve your anger."

Henry scowled. "You can leave, Doctor. It looks like Michael and I have much to discuss."

Once she departed, he aimed a stern look at the prisoner. "You obviously don't understand why I'm here. I didn't come to yell at you, Michael—I did enough of that back in Chicago, back when you held that gun on me in my house."

Michael looked down. Not one of my finest moments.

"I'm here to help you." That earned a surprised look from Michael's swiftly raised eyes. "Your attorney will be here soon, and I'm here to keep you company till he arrives."

"Blue won't be here. Todd's blocking him."

"Not anymore." Henry smiled. "Agent Wheatley's coming around after his boss chewed his butt and new evidence came to light."

"New evidence?"

"Gretchen Morgan handed over Sara's death warrant to Warden Simms. I was there. I saw it."

Michael sat up and his chains jingled. "Did Todd see it too?" When Henry nodded, Michael's eyes widened. "He never believed me—he never believed Sara's life was in danger. Gretchen willingly turned that over?"

"Well, we had to cajole her. She might get a deal if she tells the feds about the company." Henry studied his reaction. "You don't seem upset about her getting out of prison."

Michael sighed. "She's a snake, but if she can help free Sara, I don't really care what happens to her. It's smart to appeal to her self interest. Gretchen's definitely out for herself."

"Alex Mahone seemed to think so."

Michael gave him a sharp look. "You spoke to Alex?"

"He's the one who got me down here to Miami. He would've come himself, but didn't think he'd be much help. His idea for me to speak warden to warden with Alice Simms was right on, though."

Michael's jaw lowered. "You met with Alice?" His head tilted. "For me?"

"Things have changed since you and Dr. Tancredi showed up at my house. For one, I listened to the tape from the cigar club." He shuddered. "There're some things about President Reynolds I'd rather not know."

"Me neither."

"Though that tape obviously didn't get you what you wanted. Then Dr. Tancredi's trial happened, and I couldn't believe what Paul Kellerman confessed. Alex tells me he's working for the U.N. now?"

"It's hard to believe, I know."

"Then Dr. Tancredi gets accused of murder?" His eyes flared. "You and I both know she's no killer. She's a healer. I knew you were caught up in something evil once I read about her arrest."

Michael exhaled. "Sara's been forced to shoot a gun twice, and both times were to save my life."

"And now the D.A. will know she acted in self-defense, too." Reading Michael's confusion, he added, "The General's daughter, Lisa Tabak, also came forward. She gave us camera footage from the warehouse. It showed your mother about to fire her weapon before getting shot."

"That's exactly what happened! Do you think they'll throw out Sara's case? Will she go free?"

"The evidence is building to free you both."

Michael swallowed. "I don't deserve to be free. I'm where I belong. But Sara—she shouldn't be a fugitive for the rest of her life. She should be able to raise our child without the threat of prison hanging over her head."

"Dr. Tancredi's pregnant?" When Michael nodded, Henry's face lit up. "Good work. And I hear you've made an honest woman of her, too."

Michael gave one of his charismatic grins. "Yes, we're married now."

"But Michael, you're telling me you're content to waste away in supermax while your wife and child live life without you? That's not right. You need to fight, son."

He sighed. "I don't think I have any fight left."

Henry tightened his grip on the bed railing as he stared at the cuffs and chains. He eased into the chair next to the bed. "You said Dr. Tancredi saved your life twice. What was the first time?"

Michael sighed again. "When we were in Panama—that's where we went after the escape—a company agent, Bill Kim, tried to kill us."

"That was the Asian man at the cigar club?"

"Oh, right—I forgot you already became acquainted with that weasel."

"Yes, and as I recall, he became acquainted with the hood of your car."

The corner of Michael's mouth twitched. He remembered talking burritos and filet mignon in the back of a Jeep as he and Sara waited for Henry to return from the cigar club. Then an image filled his mind of Sara emerging from the little yacht, cleaning rag in her hand. "In Panama . . . Before Bill Kim could shoot Linc, Sara shot him instead."

"Hmm." Henry absorbed that. "Alex told me you were the one imprisoned in Sona, charged with Bill Kim's murder. If Sara was the one who pulled the trigger, how'd that happen?"

Memories flashed through his mind. The desperate kiss he'd shared with Sara in that sweltering Panamanian shack . . . her trembling hands cradling the sides of his head, the wetness of her tears sliding down her cheeks, the pressure of her lips on his—

"You took the fall for her, didn't you?" Henry said.

Michael said nothing.

Henry felt like he was back at Fox River interrogating Michael. He'd demanded to know how he'd gotten burned but had only received a defiant stare in return. Things hadn't changed much in six months—in a way they were right back where they'd started. However, this time Henry knew Michael's motivations. Now he was convinced of his integrity and self-sacrifice, instead of merely sensing those qualities and hoping they were true.

"You've been through quite a lot." Henry's hand hovered for a moment before he clasped Michael's arm. "I can understand why you're tired. You of all people know what it's like to feel such intense pressure, feel it weakening your strength. What'd you call it? Tensile strength. You know what it's like to feel those forces press down, threaten to crack you internal structure, cause fatigue and stress. But think of your child, Michael. You may only get one chance to be a parent—don't let that pass you by. Don't mess it up."

The fire in Henry's eyes burned into him. He contemplated his words before a smirk tugged up one corner of his mouth. "You're saying my family's not properly propagated right now?"

Henry grinned. "Exactly. They need a structural engineer to properly propagate them, Michael. They need you."

Michael held Henry's gaze for several moments.

Henry could almost see the genius mind whirring and planning.

Author's Note: I never intended to become a writer, but Bad Blood in season two was the episode that got me started writing my first fan fiction. (I love Henry! And I wondered what would've happened if Michael had indeed turned himself in after making a deal with Henry to get the recording from the cigar club. Those "what if" questions spark a lot of fan fiction.)

Are you getting psyched for season five? I hear Went, Dom, Sarah, and Amaury are all on board, woo hoo!