A/N: Sorry for the long delay! Life has taken up more time than usual lately ;) Hope you enjoy this chapter and as always, I love hearing from you!

XXXXX

Sara woke up around three and realized the bed was empty next to her. She sat up halfway and peered around, squinting; no light was on in the bathroom, Michael wasn't sitting near the window or on the edge of the bed…

She tried not to panic- it wasn't like someone could've come into their room and taken her husband away without making a sound. Still, it was a bit worrisome that her mind automatically jumped to that…if one of her family members wasn't where she expected, it must mean someone kidnapped them.

She sighed, he must've left their room on his own volition, but that was almost just as concerning. Normally his insomnia was still contained enough that he remained in bed throughout the night, despite his constant fidgeting and wide-eyed glares at the ceiling.

Reluctantly, she peeled off the warm covers and threw on a light gray sweater that was nearby, wrapping it tightly around her as she padded barefoot down the stairs. A soft glow came from the kitchen as she wandered down silently.

He was seated at the dining table, the toothpick bridge in front of him, silently putting one piece on after another.

She didn't want to startle him, so she sniffed audibly and tried to make her footsteps louder as she approached.

"Hey," she spoke softly as her hands came to rest on either shoulder.

Weakly, "Hey."

She kissed the top of his head, "You okay?"

He sighed, "I can't fix it."

Confused, "The…the bridge? Michael, it's fine, I'm sure it's already more structurally sound than anyone else's-"

"-no, not this," he fidgeted with the small piece in his hand, "I can't figure it out. This thing with Jacob," he turned his head to meet her eyes, "he has the element of surprise and I have nothing to go on."

She exhaled and wrapped her arms around him from behind, snuggling them both into her sweater as she rested her chin in the crook of his neck, "You know that this isn't on you, yea?"

"It is on me. I have to fix it."

"And all this," she gestured to the mess before them, trying to understand, "this helps you think?"

He tilted his head, considering and realizing for the first time that, "actually, no. I guess this gives me a break, a distraction. It keeps my mind occupied and...quieter."

"Hmm," she considered that a good thing; his poor mind was in desperate need of a break. She just wished that that break was sleep and not construction.

She found herself wondering if he'd come to any useful conclusions after all of his time alone, lost in thought. Up until now she hadn't asked, hadn't wanted to put pressure on him or badger him for information. But she was tired, and her filter was gone; now was as good a time as any to ask.

"Look, you have to know that this isn't your fault, or yours to fix, and I don't want to put pressure on you, but I am curious…"

"About?"

She shrugged, "What exactly you've been thinking about…all of this."

His gaze lowered to the project, "Contingencies."

"Can you be more specific?"

He paused for a beat, "No."

A scoff, "Okay."

He sighed, realizing that he was being cryptic and difficult, "I feel like I can't prevent something bad from happening. Whatever Jacob's first move is, he's the only one that knows what it is. So, all I can do is plan for every possible first move he might make with a counterattack and figure out what I or we could do in response."

"You can't serious think of every single move he could make."

"Sure I can," he countered, "it just takes time."

"Michael…" her voice was taking on that stern, motherly tone. A warning.

"I know what you're thinking-"

"-that you're isolating yourself?" she finished, "That you're gonna drive yourself crazy?"

"Yea, but-"

"-we're here. Now. We're all together."

"And I wanna keep it that way."

She was growing frustrated, but tried keeping her voice level, "I understand that. So do I, but we can't live with this thing hanging over our heads all the time."

"So, what do you suggest? We just pretend nothing is happening?"

"Nothing is happening," she moved beside him to face him more directly, "not right now. Right now? Our son is asleep safe and sound, and I'm here with you."

"And you feel like I'm not "here" with you?" he wondered softly.

She shrugged in response, the edge of anger disappearing and being replaced by fatigue.

He still didn't look at her directly, "Guess I can't blame you for that."

She swiveled his chair and sat down sideways on his lap, lifting his chin, forcing his gaze to meet hers, "This isn't your fault."

He started to protest but she continued, "I know you feel like everything is your responsibility, but it's not and you need to take care of yourself. Right now, that means you at least need to try to get some sleep."

He eyes had that look, the one of a stubborn child about to refuse a direct order.

"Please," she asked again.

He exhaled audibly, "Okay," then after a moment of consideration, "and I'm sorry I left the room without saying anything, but I didn't want to wake you up. I couldn't sleep and it just…it helps to have something to do, keep my hands busy."

She smirked, "If that's your way of offering me a back rub I'll sure take you up on it."

That caused a smile, "I see what you did there."

She shrugged, "Can't blame a girl for trying."

"Oh, I didn't say no," he clarified with a slight edge of playfulness she hadn't heard from him in a while.

She stood up and reached for his hand, clasping it in hers before leading him back upstairs.

XXXXXXX

Mike sat eating his breakfast, silently observing his parents.

Something was off.

His mom had that look in her eyes again- kind of like when Michael started to come back into the picture, but different somehow. She was worried about something, he just didn't know what.

His dad just looked tired, yet there was a nervous buzzing energy that surrounded him. Mike noticed that the bridge was almost complete, and it hadn't been when they all went to bed, so he must've worked on it during the night. Most people didn't do stuff like that, at least he thought.

His mom had told him stories about his real father, about how he was relentless in his focus- if he had a problem to solve, he couldn't rest until he did. She said that he, Mike, reminded her of Michael sometimes in that way, and reminded him to take breaks. To ask for help.

Maybe his dad needed to be reminded of that too, and maybe it should come from him. From someone whose mind worked in a similar way…from someone who could understand.

XXXXXX

Justin was eyeing Jacob suspiciously in the chow hall, "What're you so happy about?" he wondered.

Jacob swallowed the bread he was eating, which was drier than the Mohave desert, and trained his expression into something more neutral. He hadn't realized he was smiling- if you could call it that. It was more like a devilish grin.

He was feeling rather "up" these days- not happy per say, more like…excited about the future. Hopeful. In control. Something big was about to happen; he couldn't wait to see the reaction that Michael and Sara would have when the skies opened up, and the storm finally unleashed its wrath.

A twinge of guilt pricked him when Sara crossed his mind. It was annoying really, the dusty remnants of his conscience and their unwelcome presence, trying and somewhat succeeding in distracting him.

She loved that boy of hers, and he genuinely wished she hadn't been caught in the middle of all of this. Taking Mike away could be the straw that broke the camel's back- the thing to send her spiraling. He wondered if she'd relapse, and then he felt guilty again, which annoyed him again, causing a wave of heat to course up through his body.

He'd come to love her in a way, and would rather that she didn't have to suffer…but loving her was a weakness, a soft spot that he couldn't afford, not anymore. Any guilt surrounding her fate needed to be abolished.

It wasn't his first time having to squash feelings of love or friendship towards another, but this time he found that he was a bit out of practice. He'd allowed himself to have unhindered feelings for her for years, and detaching from those feelings was more difficult than he'd expected.

He huffed and forced himself to mentally step back and look at the big picture; he needed to be free and far away from here. Anything or anyone who got in the way of that was expendable. Not his problem. If Sara spiraled that was her choice, not his.

"Hello?" Justin waved a hand in front of his face.

"Sorry," Jacob spoke, "just have a few things in the works, that's all."

Unamused, "Like?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

Justin scoffed, "Okay, yea, that's fine. I mean, I don't think friends should have secrets but-"

"-we aren't friends, we're allies," he clarified.

"Same shit."

Jacob actually laughed, dismissing the ludicrous idea. There was a huge difference between friends and allies. Sure, there was often overlap, but obviously Justin and his two lackeys weren't smart enough for such complicated ideas and Jacob didn't feel like trying to explain. If he thought they were friends, that worked to his advantage anyways. Friends often did things for one another without expecting anything in return. That might come in handy.

A guard approached their table, "Ness, you've got a visitor."

His heart leapt, was it Emily? Had she done it?

He stood up and followed the guard, wandering towards visitation. When he rounded the corner and saw the table before his mind froze for a moment, wondering if his eyes were betraying him. A few blinks later, a sly grin spread across his face, "I'll be damned. Michael Scofield."

XXXXXXX

Michael hadn't made a conscious decision to visit Jacob, yet he somehow ended up at Fox River, states away from his home, anyways. Sara didn't know he was here. He'd left for work, but instead found himself calling out and driving to the airport.

It was as if he were watching himself, unable to change anything that was happening and driven by some unseen force. Autopilot.

He reminded himself over and over that this was a bad idea; he should turn around and go to work, drive home and have dinner with his family, help Mike with his project or take a walk together around the neighborhood, but he couldn't. His feet took him to the airplane, his mind drifting as he flew through the air to Chicago. A taxi ride later and here he was, staring the monster right in the face.

"I'll be damned. Michael Scofield," Jacob greeted with a sly grin as he came closer, taking a seat opposite from Michael.

He found it odd being on this side of visitation again. The last time he was here, it was Lincoln on the other side.

Being back in the building had that "run for the hills," feeling coming back, like one wrong move and he'd be taken back to his cell. He'd reminded himself on the way over that he was free and clear in the eyes of the law. He was a citizen, and it was his right to go visit an inmate.

Michael stared at the man for a moment extra, long enough for an uncomfortable silence.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Jacob wondered as his bound hands rested on the table between them.

Michael leaned back slightly, his fingers tapping on the table, "Tell me what you're planning."

Jacob smirked, "Now, what makes you think I'm planning anything?"

"The fact that my wife's tires were slashed, and someone tried to take our son. Who else but you would stoop so low?"

"Your wife?" he asked, "get married again, did you?"

He stewed in silence. Officially? No, they hadn't. Sara had gotten the divorce papers back, severing the ties between her and Jacob, but they hadn't bothered with paperwork to legally marry. He didn't think either of them felt the need to rush- they were just happy to be together again. They would eventually of course, but such things had been off his radar lately, what with re-adjusting to civilian life, feeling his way through fatherhood, house hunting-

"Oh, not yet," Jacob assessed, amused, "she holding out on ya? Not wanting to commit? That always was a problem for her, she's not very trusting-"

"-back to my question," Michael interrupted, "what're you planning?"

Jacob eyed him for a moment, amused, "Even if I was, what on Earth makes you think I'd tell you?"

"Because from where we sit now, you hold all the cards. You alone," his head tilted, "what kind of game is that?"

"You want me to "deal you in," so to speak?"

"Yes."

He contemplated, "Interesting proposition."

"We both know how much you like to play games, but if I'm on the sidelines…well, that doesn't make me a very challenging opponent."

Jacob sat in silence, so Michael continued, "I'm assuming there's an end goal with all of this. Tell me what it is."

"You're concerned," he noted with a smirk.

"I'm concerned for the safety of my family."

"Your family?" he challenged, "I raised him. Where were you during all of those very important years?"

His voice raised, "You know where I was! Doing your bidding, being your puppet, but that's not going to happen again," he decided to change topics and be more direct, "are you trying to hurt him? To hurt Mike."

Jacob's eyes cleared for a moment, the twinkle dissipating, "Never."

Michael found that he believed him, and remembered Sara's gut telling her the same thing, "Then what is this about? You want to hurt me, to hurt Sara?" he asked.

"Why do you assume my only goal is to cause pain?"

"Based on your track record, can you really blame me for drawing that kind of conclusion?"

Jacob scoffed, leaning back slightly, "You're forgetting another important piece of the puzzle."

"What puzzle?"

Jacob gestured to himself, "Have I really taught you nothing? Self-preservation, Michael. Do you think I wanna be here forever? Stuck in this hell-hole?"

Michael almost laughed at the ridiculousness of what he was implying, and spoke incredulously, "You want me to break you out."

"How kind of you to offer. Yes, that would be lovely, Micheal."

"Not happening."

"Oh, we'll see about that. Perhaps in the coming days you'll find yourself…motivated to reconsider."

A buzzer went off followed by a guard yelling, "Visiting time is over."

"Just promise me something," Michael insisted as Jacob stood up, "promise me you won't hurt them."

Jacob paused dramatically, making a show of considering his request, "I won't."

Michael heaved an exhale in relief but then looked back up as Jacob's voice continued, "Unless you give me no other choice," and he followed the guard out of sight.

XXXXXXXXX

"You're where!?" Sara asked as her eyebrows practically leapt off her face. She was at the school a full thirty minutes early to pick up Mike, the paranoia getting the best of her and having her leave home ridiculously early. She even picked up a burner phone the other day, knowing she could use it to call a cab if they tampered with her vehicle or phone again. They didn't (yet) so here she was, earlier than any other parent and leaning against the sun-warmed metal door of her vehicle.

"My flight out of Chicago leaves in thirty minutes, so I won't be home too late-"

"-excuse me," she interrupted, still in disbelief, "that's not the part I'm concerned about at all. You actually visited him?"

A pause, "Yes."

"And that wasn't something you thought you should maybe…mention to me?" she wasn't mad…not really, she was still in shock, processing the fact that she hadn't really known where he was for the entire day. That he'd lied, well…omitted a few pretty important details about his day.

"I'm sorry," he offered lamely.

She exhaled a big breath, pinching the bridge of her nose, a softer tone, "Remember that time you sent Fernando and I to a bus station? Sent us ahead and out of town so you and Lincoln could do," she struggled to remember the exact predicament they'd been in at the time, "something Scylla related without us?"

He answered with an air of caution, "Vaguely?"

"And when we refused to leave and came back I told you, "I'll kill you myself if you do something like that again?"

He took her point now, his voice even weaker as he tried, "This is different…"

"Not really," she countered, "you kept me in the dark. I know you'll say it was to protect me and there might be some truth in that but…did you think I'd try to stop you? That I…wouldn't get it?"

"All of the above?" he answered in question form, "I mean, you would've tried to stop me-"

"-yea, I would have," she exhaled audibly, "it's not safe. God, Michael, what were you thinking?"

"I needed answers."

"Did you get any?"

"Well," he paused, and she could hear the airport announcements in the background, "for what it's worth, he said he doesn't want to hurt Mike."

Flatly, "Great."

"Or you…unless he has to."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"He wants me to break him out of Fox River," she scoffed, and he continued, "And I think he's planning on taking Mike if I don't, and if that's not enough, he might hurt you…or Mike."

"You just said he told you that he wouldn't hurt Mike."

"That's what he said at first, but then right before he left he added the whole, "Unless you give me no other choice," thing."

Her chest constricted with fear, a queasiness in her stomach, "What're you gonna do?"

"I'm not breaking him out. If I did it'd be to…" his voice trailed off.

"To kill him," she finished for him, the words feeling oddly airy in her mouth. Not bitter or heavy, just…vaguely present, "but where would that leave you? You'd be a murderer and we'd be worse off than when we first met."

Hesitantly, "Unless I made it look like self-defense."

"You've thought about it," she observed.

Quieter, "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't."

"You're not a murderer," she replied softly, reassuring both him and herself.

"My hands aren't clean in this world, Sara. Not at all."

She sighed and closed her eyes, not sure what she could say that would be both truthful and comforting, "Maybe we should talk about this in person…tonight? Or in the morning if you get home late."

"Yea, that's probably a good idea."

She heard the school bell ring and took that as her cue to officially wrap it up. She felt sick after their conversation and had to really fight to get out the last few words. She knew they wouldn't sound genuine- didn't have the energy to force any real feeling into them as she spoke, "Alright well…I love you. Get home safe."

"Love you, too. I will."