Author's Note: This is the penultimate chapter-only one left after this one. One of my buddies from the Fox Prison Break forum, Cecile, is featured in this chapter. We had so much fun dissecting the show on the forum. I wonder if it will come back for the revival. Happy reading!

37. Quasimodo

Bored, Lincoln flopped onto one of the chairs in the FBI interrogation room. "Where'd Todd the Turd go?"

Michael grinned. His brother had always been the king of social grace. "Hopefully he's finalizing the details of Sara's release."

"Hopefully he's not finalizing the details of your transfer to ADX Florence," Sara added.

Silence enveloped the three.

"So this is weird," Lincoln said. "I'm free, but you and the doc are in cuffs." His tongue swept across his lower lip, an action which would have driven Karina crazy had she been in the room. "Has that ever happened before?"

"Doubt it," Michael shot back. "Typically you're the first to be cuffed."

Lincoln chuckled, a low rumble in the room. "Very true."

"Usually you two are cuffed and I'm free. Like when . . ." Sara looked down.

Michael prompted, "Like when?"

A blush crept onto her cheeks. "I'm thinking of the infirmary, the morning of Lincoln's . . . execution."

Sara watched the brothers gaze at each other through the glass of separate exam rooms, their eyes seeming to communicate what words could not. Lincoln was cuffed to a bed, and a CO removed Michael's handcuffs.

Michael turned to her as she crossed the room. "I need to see my brother. To talk. Just for five minutes."

Sara nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll try."

He rubbed the pads of his palms together, waiting for good news. But he could see from the slump of Sara's shoulders that the guard had denied his request.

Returning to the exam room, Sara sighed. "Um, I'm sorry. I'm told that you have to wait until final visitation."

Michael launched into his next plea. "Would you talk to your father, for me?" Her eyes widened, and he added, "Please?"

"Believe me, my father knows where I stand on the death penalty."

"Sara, uh, Dr. Tancredi, I'm sorry." He winced, then seemed to get a hold of himself, his voice strengthening. "This isn't about the morality of the death penalty. This is about killing an innocent man—my brother."

The innocent man, very much alive, looked at Michael. "I knew you did everything you could, that night you gave me the disgusting black pill. That's what you wanted to tell me in the infirmary, right? That you felt bad the escape didn't work?"

Michael nodded.

Lincoln approached Michael and cupped his shoulder. "But you did make it work, later. You got me out of there. What you did for me . . ."

Hearing the emotion in his brother's voice, Michael patted his hand. "I'd do it all again, Linc. I would."

His brow furrowed, and he turned to Sara. "You, too." His gaze was intense. "Thank you for what you did."

She swallowed as she remembered sitting on his cot in the SHU later that day, preparing for the execution.

When she cradled his trembling hands in hers, his head snapped up. "You been through this before?"

"No." She looked down. "Uh, just so you know, a doctor needs to be present, so, for what it's worth, I'll be there tonight."

"Can I ask you a favor?"

She responded in a second. "Yeah . . . what?"

"When I'm gone can you, can you look out for my brother?"

Her throat tightened.

"You've been amazing to both of us, Sara," Lincoln said. "Even though I didn't die that night, you have looked after Michael, just like I asked."

Lincoln squatted by Michael's chair. "You don't need looked after. I know that now. You're the one who's looked after me all my life, having to be the big brother to the big brother. And I can't watch you take the fall for this, all alone. I can't let you do this."

Michael lowered his head and studied the shiny scars from electrical burns. "It's out of our hands, Linc."

~~ o*o ~~

It was only a few minutes after Paul Kellerman had left, taking Scylla with him, that two newcomers arrived to Director Richard Sullens' office: Defense Attorney Blue Phillips and District Attorney Cécile Montrachet.

Cécile's neat ponytail showcased her heart-shaped face. Despite her soft French accent, she had no problem holding her own in the squabble she and Blue had started in the hallway.

"There's no need for a trial, Mr. Phillips," she explained. "Mr. Scofield's returning to prison based on his escape attempts. An automatic ten years added to his bid."

"But he's already been exonerated for the bank robbery and the Fox River escape," Blue said. "It'd be double jeopardy to charge him with those crimes again. You have to give him due process."

Richard held up his hand. "Excuse me. I'm Director Richard Sullens, and this is Agent Todd Wheatley. We've talked on the phone, Ms. Montrachet, but it's a pleasure to meet in person." He shook her hand.

"And Director, this is Blue Phillips, Scofield's attorney," Todd said.

"Dr. Tancredi's attorney as well," Blue added. He wondered why there was less contempt in Todd's voice. Maybe it was because he was trying to impress the sexy DA, who he was clearly ogling. "Where're my clients?" asked Blue.

"In an interrogation room nearby," Todd said.

Richard gestured to a conference table in the corner of the office. "Please, everyone, have a seat." He took the chair at the head of the table, with opposing counsel choosing opposite sides. Todd picked the seat next to Cécile.

"We'll get back to Mr. Scofield, but first I want to talk about Dr. Tancredi," Cécile said.

Blue nodded.

"You're telling me you want all charges against her dropped?"

"The new video evidence clearly shows she acted in self-defense," Blue said.

"It's obvious Christina Hampton was about to shoot Scofield when Tancredi fired," Todd added.

Blue sent him a bewildered look. Why was he helping his case?

Cécile turned to Richard. "Is the FBI okay with letting Dr. Tancredi go?"

Richard frowned. "She did escape from prison."

Blue reached into his briefcase and took out papers. "We already have evidence of a contract out on Dr. Tancredi's life. I'd also like to alert you of a new witness—a Miami-Dade CO who confessed to beating up Dr. Tancredi her first day there." He handed copies of an interview with the woman to Cécile and Richard.

"Warden Sims can't be happy about this," Cécile said.

Blue grimaced. "Warden Sims is the one who told me about the CO's confession. Apparently the guard came forward once she learned Dr. Tancredi was innocent."

Blue let the government employees look over the papers. "I doubt the DA wants it known that COs beat up a pregnant woman to get back at her husband for outsmarting them. You let her go now, and I'll make sure none of this sees the light of day."

Pressing her lips together, Cécile nodded. She'd seen the evidence and knew it would be unwise to pursue a trial. "The prosecution will drop all charges against Dr. Sara Tancredi."

Blue barely finished his exhale before Cécile said, "Now, onto Michael Scofield. I'll concede to a jury trial, and we're prepared to make a strong case against him. What other evidence do you have?"

"I've already shared the contract on Sara's life. Warden Sims will also testify that Michael pleaded with her to move his wife to Ad Seg, but her refusal forced him to rescue her."

Cécile cocked a sculpted eyebrow. "Vigilante justice is not a defense, Mr. Phillips."

Blue smiled. "No, but the private defence is a defense."

The prosecutor stilled.

Blue continued, "Michael Scofield was acting in defense of his wife when he broke her out of prison. She was in imminent danger, and the escape was a reasonable action taken to thwart that danger. Michael Scofield had no choice but to use his special abilities to save his wife from death."

Cécile shook her head. "No way you'll prove that to a jury. There were countless alternative actions Mr. Scofield could've taken besides breaking his wife out of a maximum security prison."

"Like what?" Blue jabbed his finger in the air. "He tried every legal channel known to humankind, and still his brother came within seconds of wrongful execution! Do you think he'd just stand around, plead with deaf government officials, wait to get some response while the company killed his innocent wife?"

The force of Blue's shouts had made Todd lean back in his chair. "Dude, take a breather. We're on your side. We want to see justice prevail here, too." He aimed a stern look at Cécile. "Right, Ms. Montrachet?"

"Of course."

Blue's voice lowered a notch. "You do not want a trial, Madame District Attorney. Think about it. From Dr. Tancredi's trial, the public knows Secret Service set up Lincoln Burrows. Once they heard the evidence, that jury let Dr. Tancredi go in a flash. She was acting to prevent imminent harm to Lincoln Burrows, and the reasonableness of her actions was obvious.

"I can easily argue for the private defense for Michael Scofield as well, and you know it. He had to extract his wife from that prison or she would've been murdered. Do you really want to take this case in front of a jury? Dredge up the government conspiracy against this hapless family once again? Highlight the FBI's inability to thwart Michael from escaping two maximum security prisons, thus weakening their security when the details of his escapes are exposed?"

Cécile took in his arguments. "I'd like to speak to Director Sullens alone, please."

Blue and Todd got up and headed to the other corner of the expansive office while the prosecutor and director spoke in hushed tones.

"You think they'll go for it?" Todd asked.

Blue studied him from the corner of his eye. "They'd be incredibly stupid not to."

"Don't underestimate the government. Incredibly stupid is our middle name."

Despite himself, Blue chuckled.

After about ten minutes, Cécile motioned for them. As Blue sat, her searched her face for clues about Michael's future.

"We won't prosecute," she said.

Blue hid his deep relief and nodded like he'd expected that outcome all along. "Of course you won't. And you also won't let future district attorneys prosecute, either. I want immunity for Michael and Sara."

Richard's jaw dropped. "What? Not going to happen!"

Cécile played it more coolly. "I plan to be in office for quite some time, Mr. Phillips, but even if future candidates beat me in elections, it's highly unlikely they'll prosecute this case, for the same reasons I'm letting it go now."

"Then why not make sure?" Blue asked. "Grant them the immunity they deserve, after everything they've been through. Have you seen what's happened to this family as a result of government incompetence? Lincoln Burrows' life has been threatened countless times, in and out of prison. His son, LJ, watched his mother and stepfather murdered right in front of him—and then was accused of their murders. Dr. Tancredi lost her career and her father, not to mention almost losing her life and her baby.

"And I haven't even gotten to the man who has sacrificed the most: Michael Scofield. Did you know that before all of this began, he was a successful structural engineer who spent his free time assisting troubled youth in Chicago? Now, what's become of him? Physically, he's a wreck. He's lost two toes, his torso is covered in scars from the tattoo, and his hands are scarred, too, from the electrical burns. He's sustained a brain tumor that the company failed to remove as promised."

"That's all self-inflicted," Richard said.

"Because the government didn't do its job. Michael had to save his brother and his wife from wrongful death. He alone is responsible for the bulk of evidence we have against the company, no thanks to the government."

"Scofield's also responsible for bringing Scylla to the UN and fixing it when it had a glitch," Todd added.

"Yes!" Blue's nods were rapid-fire. "Yet instead of rewarding him for these herculean efforts, you try to lock him away in super-max? That's a travesty. I demand you grant my clients immunity."

"Pretty soon you'll demand they get restitution from the government as well," Richard scoffed.

"I'd fight for that, too," Blue said, "but Governor Tancredi's estate will be enough for them to live comfortably. The Scofields don't need money, and that's why I'm not asking for it. What they do need is freedom. And only you can guarantee that, Madame District Attorney. Only you."

Cécile's jade-green eyes pierced into him.

~~ o*o ~~

Once they entered the hallway, Felicia whipped out a pair of handcuffs and restrained Alex's hands behind his back. "Turnabout's fair play," she whispered in his ear.

"What're you doing?" he asked.

She grinned. "What Agent Wheatley told me to do. I'm 'taking care' of you."

"So the cuffs are a ruse? You'll pretend I'm your prisoner, then remove them once we get out of here?"

Her breasts pressed against him. "Who said I'll remove the cuffs?"

A flicker of excitement pulsed up his spine.

Her voice picked up volume as she pushed him forward. "Let's go, con."

Alex stiffened when they rounded the corner. "It's Sullens!" he hissed.

To their left was an empty interrogation room. She shoved Alex inside seconds before Richard Sullens strode past, trailed by a few agents.

They stood inside the door, panting in the darkened room.

"Don't think he saw you," she said.

"He doesn't like me very much." His head sagged.

"Yeah, Sullens hails from Internal Affairs. He isn't a fan of letting agents get away with murder."

Alex lifted his gaze, surprised by her directness. The metal cuffs bit into his wrists. "You shouldn't be my fan, either. I am a murderer, Lish. I don't deserve your loyalty."

"You probably don't," she agreed with a slight smile. "But I can't stay away. I feel . . . drawn to you. We've been through a lot together, I guess. And once we smuggle you out of here, you're a free man."

"I don't deserve to be free. You should turn me over to Sullens. I should pay for my crimes."

"You have paid! The time you spent in that hellhole Sona—that was like a life sentence in American prison. But your penance goes way beyond doing time." She leaned in, and he felt her warm breath on his cheek. "You lost your wife and son."

He looked down into her warm brown eyes, feeling a rush of emotion tightening his throat. "Cammy . . ."

Wrapping her arms around him, she could feel the raised welts and scars on his back through his shirt. "You've already paid," she murmured against his chest as she clutched onto him.

He kept upright only by leaning into the steady woman holding him together.

~~ o*o ~~

Sucre double-checked the number on the high-rise apartment door with the scrap of paper in his hand, given to him earlier by Michael. He knocked. "LJ!" he called. "You in there?"

When his knocks went unanswered, he frowned. "It's Sucre . . . remember? We met in Costa Rica?" He thought he heard some noise inside and pressed his ear to the door. "Linc and Michael sent me to check on you."

The door opened a crack, but the chain was still latched. A crystal-blue eye peered out, making Sucre grin. That eye could've easily belonged to Michael.

LJ asked, "How do I know you're legit?"

Sucre sighed—the kid had been through way too much at his age. He tried to remember their meeting in Puerto Limón, but was coming up blank. "C'mon LJ, I was your uncle's cellie. You can trust me."

"What'd you say about the boat in the warehouse? The boat Aunt Sara and Uncle Mike stayed on?"

Sucre rubbed his bald head as he blinked, then grinned. "Ooh, ooh, got it. When the boat's a-rockin', don't come a-knockin'."

The door opened in an instant. "Where's my dad?"

Sucre looked past LJ to find a tall blond boy staring back at him. He entered and locked the door behind him. "At FBI headquarters. Your aunt and uncle are there, too."

"They are?" LJ shrunk back.

"Who're you?" asked Ben.

"Fernando Sucre."

LJ explained, "He escaped from Fox River along with my dad and uncle."

Sucre looked him over. "You're the doc's kid?"

"Yeah. I'm Ben."

Noticing their uneasy expressions, Sucre did a reconnaissance of the apartment. "Any signs of the company?"

"No," LJ answered.

Ben added, "We want to visit my mom but the FBI told us to stay away from the hospital."

Sucre squinted. "Didn't the feds try to protect you? Keep you somewhere?"

"Yeah." LJ squirmed. "Uh, we sort of escaped."

"You escaped?" Sucre laughed.

"We didn't want those asshats in control of us. They don't care about us, anyway. They only care about Uncle Mike."

Sucre's smile vanished. "I hope that's true."

~~ o*o ~~

Lincoln popped off his chair the moment the door opened. Once he saw Todd, he growled, "About time, Wheatley—" but stopped short when three more people entered the room.

"Blue." Michael felt relieved to see his attorney in the group.

"Michael, Sara, Lincoln." Blue nodded at each of them, his black eyes revealing nothing.

Todd approached Michael's chair and unlocked his handcuff. "Stand up to meet Director Sullens and District Attorney Cécile Montrachet."

Michael rose, his calm façade hiding his thumping heart and clenching stomach. He supposed the time had come to return to prison.

When Todd unlocked Sara's handcuffs, Michael went to stand behind her chair. He rested his hands on her shoulders. "Stay seated, Sara."

She savored his warm touch on her skin, hoping it wouldn't be the last time he could touch her. Hoping a long prison stretch wouldn't keep them apart.

Lincoln joined them, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his brother. The three faced Richard and Cécile.

Richard nodded. "So here's the infamous Michael Scofield. You gave us quite the run."

He said nothing.

Cécile pressed her lips together. "Dr. Tancredi, we've discussed your situation with your attorney. I've decided there's insufficient evidence to proceed with the prosecution." Sara's eyes widened as Cécile pushed a legal document across the table. "Provided you never disclose the details of your incarceration or escape, we're dropping all charges."

"With immunity from further prosecution," Blue added with a grin.

"I'm free?" Her jaw unhinged. Michael squeezed her shoulders.

"Thank God." He closed his eyes. "You'll be safe."

"Michael," Sara blurted, searching the eyes of the prosecutor. "What about him?"

Cécile paused. "I learned a lot about you today, Mr. Scofield. The lengths you've gone to save your family . . . well, they're astounding, incroyable. You are an extraordinary man. We believe you and your family have already paid for your crimes. Therefore, once you sign these documents, you'll have immunity from prosecution as well."

Michael didn't move, didn't breathe.

"My brother's a free man?" Lincoln asked.

"He's free," Todd confirmed.

"Fuck, yeah!" Lincoln grabbed Michael in a bear hug and thumped him on the back.

Still dazed, Michael stepped out of the hug and knelt by his wife. His wife. His free wife. And their free baby. "Sara . . ."

Her eyes brimmed with tears. His hand curled around the back of her neck and drew her into him, planting a kiss on her lips that was somehow gentle, fierce, desperate, and celebratory all at once. Her body racked with sobs as they clung to each other, trembling with a soaring crescendo of relief and elation.

Lincoln remembered that airport hangar right before Michael left to save Sara. Then, Michael had said "It's not my first time inside a prison. But hopefully, it will be my last."

His hope had come true. Their faith had borne fruit. The government that had almost destroyed them was now granting them clemency. The man who had carried the weight of his brother and the world on his back was now free of that burden.

As Michael and Sara reviewed the documents with Blue, Todd explained, "Immunity means you won't be arrested once you leave here, unlike last time." He winced. "Sorry I had to interrupt your wedding reception."

"We'll just have another one," Michael said. "And this time you're not invited, Todd."

"Fair enough." Todd winked.

Sara tapped her chin. "And we'll need a proper honeymoon, too."

"With a filet mignon dinner," Michael promised, leaning in to brush his lips on her cheek.

They were free.

there goes my pain
there goes my chains
did you see them fall

there goes the world off of my shoulders
there goes the world off of my back
there it goes

"Quasimodo" by Lifehouse