A/N: Hi all! :) Thanks to the eclipse I had a day off work and a chance to finish the next chapter! It's hard to believe we are on the downward trend of this story, but I am forever and always grateful to you guys for your patience to stick with this story through and through!
Chapter 52:
"And I'm still dealing with those consequences every day."
My legs felt like jelly but I kept running. The physical pain was far more tolerable to the emotional torment that would surface if I allowed myself to think for even a second. The passerby's probably thought they were going insane to see a woman with an arm through a sling sprinting through Ebert Park. Despite all of the onlookers and surroundings from a sunny afternoon the only images that danced before my vision were on my father's crumpled body soaked in a pool of his own blood.
Eyes that remained open looking at a spot on the wall as though he was wondering if I was hidden behind it.
Hands fell limply at his sides for he didn't have the time to move to a defensive stance when he was shot in the head.
Murdered by his colleague, Alexander Mahone.
As I ran past a large fountain, I nearly crashed into a wire trash can as I vomited into it.
Not once.
Not twice.
Three times.
Despite everything, everything he has done, I still couldn't bring myself to kill Mahone. After shooting him the leg, I sprinted from the house as quickly as I could. It was a miracle I had even hit my target with so much adrenaline pumping through my system. Leaving the car behind, I hopped in the first taxi I could and practically threw cash at the driver to speed away. But sitting in the back seat of the cab with only those flashes playing over and over again in mind; I felt like I was drowning, so I got out and sprinted towards that park.
I sank to my knees nearly tipping over the trash can without a second glance to anyone that paid me any attention. The heaving sounds I was still making surely had people glancing my direction, but no one dared stop.
"Listen kid, all you have to do is hand this phone to the first wet guy you see and the twenty bucks is yours."
My eyes shot open.
I knew that voice.
With my good arm I slowly pulled myself back to my feet and turned around so quickly I thought I might vomit again. But without a doubt, no more than ten feet away…
Lincoln Burrows.
As if he could sense someone was watching him, his eyes finally connected with mine. He took me in, how my appearance must have looked like death warmed up and started to close the distance between us.
I remained frozen to the spot. What sort of fate was this that only earlier in the day I was questioning how I would find these brothers in all of Chicago, and here was Lincoln striding right in my direction? He closed the distance between us and we just stared at each other, maybe each of us unsure what to say to the other.
"We saw it on the news." He said after a while, and I didn't have to ask what he was referring to.
"They're blaming me, aren't they?" I stated more to myself than anyone in particular.
Lincoln shook his head in denial, and I looked down to ponder. Once I had fled from my house, I assumed that Mahone would probably be able to spin the situation so that it appeared I had killed my father and shot him as a way to make sure I would escape. That way there would be no denying my involvement in this. If Mahone was trying to cover up what happened to my father, the reason would only be to serve his best interests and I would undoubtedly uncover those reasons soon enough.
A heavy pit was starting to settle itself in my stomach thinking about it, so I was looking around for any sort of distraction when my eyes finally settled on the black bag at my feet. I nudged it in Lincoln's direction.
"There's something in there you might be happy to see." I offered.
He gave me a sidelong glance before reaching forward to unzip the bag. As he rummaged through, he put aside the gun and pain medication to pull out the wads of cash stuffed at the bottom. He looked up at me with surprise, obviously recognizing where the money had come from.
"It's not all of it." I admitted. "It sort of felt like kicking Tbag while he was down, but there's a good amount in there that you are free to use."
Lincoln didn't try to argue with me about why I left Tbag with some of the money, or try to push about my involvement with Mahone and my dad and I was grateful.
"What brought you back to Chicago, Laney?" Lincoln finally asked taking a minute to count the money.
Now it was my turn to give him a sidelong glance and I suddenly felt timid to admit that I returned to Chicago so I could find him and his brother. It seemed silly to say it out loud, so I tried to mask it humor.
"I figured you and your brother were most likely caught without my help." I teased.
"Why did you come back here?" I asked. "Why risk it with Mahone lurking around?"
"We found something." He confessed. "And it could lead to my exoneration, but we had to come back here to get it and show it someone."
"Who?"
"President Reynolds."
I stared at Lincoln with a stoic expression, but inside my mind was racing. I thought Michael was supposed to be some sort of genius and his best plan was to track down the one person who probably wanted him dead more than Mahone. What in the world could they have found that was worth that? Apparently, it had to be something pretty big if they were confident that the president would pardon Lincoln.
"Laney I can see the millions of questions running through your mind." Lincoln quipped.
"Well, I do have some lost ground to make up and I'm just trying to understand everything here. What exactly is it that you think you have found that would make the president listen."
Lincoln smiled a mischievous grin, "Would you like to hear it?"
Michael and Sarah were waiting back at the hotel room when Lincoln and I walked in, and although I was surprised to see Sarah, she wasn't surprised to me. They both embraced me with a hug and apologized for what happened to my father (with no response from me). I would have figured that the last person Sarah would want anything to do with is Michael and Lincoln considering her role in the escape, and the subsequent murder of her father. I gave her a look and realized we may have more in common than I originally thought.
"Nice sling," said Michael trying to reduce the tension.
"Oh, and here I thought nobody would notice." I jibed right back moving further into the room.
The hotel room wasn't on the top floor, but high enough up that they could easily watch the people from down below in case an unwelcome guest started coming by.
"So what happened after Utah, when Tbag… you know." Lincoln asked.
Memories quickly flashed through my mind of the brief time I spent with Tbag, and while it was recent, it felt like an entire lifetime ago and for some reason it felt like a different Laney. Part of me wondered what Tbag was up to now that he was alone and if he was safe, or if the others around him were safe.
"Nothing major, several stops, several attempted assaults and murders which finally led to me taking off in Alabama."
"Then where is he now?"
"No idea, but I doubt he will be in a chatting mood knowing I swindled him out of the money. Good thing we probably won't see him again."
My voice felt hollow and I didn't want to talk anymore, so I looked over to Michael for assistance. Sarah, surprisingly, took the lead and pulled out a laptop and rested on the small table in the hotel room. I looked skeptical but Sarah also took out a small flash drive and slipped it into the computer. For the first few minutes, nothing happened and the screen stayed blank, but then waves moved across the computer screen followed by a muffled audio. Although the voice wasn't clear, I had heard it before. On the television screen.
President Reynolds.
With wide eyes, I looked over to Michael and Lincoln wondering how they even managed to get a hold of this. The conversation carried on as the President was talking to a male voice about wanting something to be over. By the power of deductive reasoning, I gathered that the male voice was none other than her brother, Terrance Steadman after his supposed "murder" and they were discussing the setup of Lincoln. Now it all made sense why they wanted to return to Chicago if this was waiting here for them.
The President and her brother were smart enough, however, and knew better than to talk about any specific information, the conversation was vague. I had my doubts that this conversation alone would hold up in a court of law. Then there was a strange turn, and at first I thought I had imagined it. Terrance was talking about sleeping in the bed as his sister and feeling her warmth pressed against him. The more disturbing part was that she agreed. Then the tape ended.
I released a breath I had been holding, "Whoa."
"Whoa." Michael repeated.
"Where did you find this?" I asked replaying the contents over again in my mind.
"A lock box," replied Sarah, "somehow my dad got his hands on this tape and he hid it away for me to find before he… he died." She said that last part a little hesitantly.
A quick image of my father's body slumped on the kitchen floor danced through my memory, but I pushed it away.
"And I'm still dealing with those consequences every day."
It became real to me in that moment that on either side of me were two men who I bought their escape from prison at the cost of my family. Even though the words out of my mouth were lighthearted with the brothers, my voice sounded hollow because I no longer looked at them the way I used to in Fox River. Now, the only thing I could see, smell, feel was the blood on all of our hands from this mess we created.
I think someone was trying to talk to me, but everything sounded muffled. It was only the cool feeling of a hand covering my own that ground me to the present setting again.
"Laney?" Sarah gave my hand a firm squeeze.
"I'm just tired," I lied, "It's been a long few days. So, what's the plan regarding the conversation?"
Michael relayed the information that they made contact with an associate named Cooper Green who worked with his father in a resistance movement dedicated to bringing down this Company. However, the actual tape in possession would not hold up in a court of law (like I suspected), so now the game plan was to use the information to blackmail the president for a pardon.
Too many thoughts. Too many questions. Michael would be lucky enough if they didn't shoot him on site, let alone be able to get close enough to the president to blackmail her. Plus, she could flat out refuse and tempt him to release the tape.
"Well, typically I would offer to help, but today I imagine I would be more of a nuisance than any help at all."
Sarah nodded her head and Michael inclined his head to the left as though he might speak, but was cut off by three light taps on the hotel door. Too quickly, I whipped my head in that direction and reached behind my back attempting to grasp a phantom gun I thought was there. The others remained calm, no sense of alarm, quite the opposite really, Lincoln moved to open the door with another mischievous smirk on his face. Michael and Sarah as well, as if they were all in on some joke or secret.
"Check it, I managed to swipe a newspaper and talk to this old broad in more detail about this event being hosted by the President."
That voice. Maybe I was more tired than I thought. It couldn't be...could it?
But as he stepped into room, I had to blink several times.
Tweener.
Somehow, he looked different. Even though it had only been a few weeks since I had seen him last standing in that garage, he looked…
Older.
Perhaps older wasn't the correct term, but he looked worn. Incredibly stressed. Still when those dark eyes connected with mine, as we took in every inch of each other, a wave of relief filled me in knowing he was safe.
"Laney." It came out more as a strangled cry.
Then he moved with lightning speed and had me crushed against his chest. Crushed was too gentle of a word for how hard he squeezed me, as though letting go would cause me to disappear. Slowly, I breathed in the scent of him, ignoring the searing pain coursing through my arm.
I felt his lips on my hair as he repeated my name over and over again. For a moment, I wondered if the others felt uncomfortable by this embrace, but it was only a fleeting thought as Tweener pulled back and dropped lower until we were at eye level. His eyes were glistening and it made me feel guilty that mine were just blank, that I did not return any attempt of affection.
Because I wanted to. God knows, I wanted to throw my arms around him and kiss his blessed face, but I couldn't do it. I wouldn't allow myself even a minute of happiness.
"And I'm still dealing with those consequences every day."
"It wasn't your fault." He muttered softly.
Of course it was. Everything that happened since I let them crawl through the damn hole in that damn cell was my fault. The weight of the mask I wore to cover my guilt was crushing, but allowed me to give Tweener the smallest of smiles as though I found him comforting.
Someone's throat clearing turned both of our attentions back to the center of the room where Michael, Lincoln, and Sarah were still waiting. We shifted our stances so we could all have a conversation, but Tweener remained close his arm keeping me in a very tight proximity.
"Laney, typically, I would ask for your help, but the more people involved in this, the less control we have. So I am going to talk to the president alone."
No one flinched. No one balked at the idea of sending Michael into the lion's den. Alone.
"Michael, they will kill you. This company doesn't care about some stupid tape." I spat. "They want us all dead."
"It's the only chance we have. We have to try."
There were those charmed words that came out of Michael's mouth. So full of hope that once I found reassuring, now it just seemed stupid.
"Lincoln is going to meet with an old friend to set up a sort of back-up plan in case this goes south. Sarah will drive me as close as she can get me to the convention center and then double back to a different hotel room we booked and wait for me there."
It felt different to not be included on these plans, like Michael was going to eventually have a part for me to play somehow. But he didn't, I was free to remain in this current room with Tweener and they would stay in contact. Tweener didn't object, he probably would have only objected to leaving me alone.
Lincoln, Michael and Sarah grouped up to leave together. They all either touched my shoulder or hand in a reassuring way before leaving, but it only felt numb. The only thing worse was the silence between Tweener and myself after the door closed. He didn't know what to say, how to reconnect with me. Instead, he remained by my side in close enough proximity so if I wanted to reach out to him he would be there.
"I'm taking a shower." Was the only thing I said without a second glance.
