Michael's flight landed on time, and had him pulling into their driveway around eight p.m. Mike would be in bed soon, but if he was lucky, he'd have a chance to see him before Sara tucked him in.

He realized that he didn't have an explanation for Mike as to why he was so tardy getting home. He stuck his key in the door and hoped Sara would subtly clue him in as to where he had supposedly been all day. He didn't want to lie to Mike, but he also didn't want to confuse him with the truth. Jacob was a confusing subject for Michael; he could only imagine how tangled it must all seem to Mike.

He opened the door and was greeted quickly by Sara. Mike was in the living room on the floor, putting together some Lego thing by the looks of it.

Sara lightly touched his arms and pecked his lips, "I told him you had to stay late at work."

He felt a wave of relief, glad that she'd not only covered for him, but that Mike didn't seem to be concerned at all by the change in his routine.

He knew Sara must still be upset, and she had every right to be. He'd omitted the truth- a pretty important piece of information that affected them all. He couldn't articulate why he hadn't told her earlier; he'd tried, but it was like there was some deep instinct that prevented him from typing a few simple words in a text. It felt like if he had, something terrible would've happened, like pressing those few keys would've caused the floor to drop out from beneath them all. Deep down, he knew that explanation wouldn't hold up…but it was all he had.

He wandered towards the living room, "Hey."

Mike looked up from what he was doing, "Hey. Did you have a lot of work to do?"

"Uh," Michael cleared his throat as he perched on the couch and rested his forearms on his knees, "yea, just a few important things I needed to take care of. I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier."

Mike observed him for a minute, silently, and hedged, "It's okay. But…" he paused, "but sometimes it's okay to take a break. Mom always has to remind me of that."

Michael wasn't sure what he expected Mike's response to be, but that was certainly deeper and more profound than anything he could've predicted. It was also painfully accurate, and had his stomach sinking.

He was still a bit shocked, and offered a reassurance, "That's good advice, but I'm okay."

"Are you?" Mike met his eyes, and Michael saw that he was genuinely concerned. Suddenly, the horrible realization that Mike knew more than he let on knocked the wind out of Michael's chest. He was a kid, but he was smart. Observant. He must've picked up on a lot more than Michael had realized, and he frantically looked back at Sara, wanting to see if she'd known. The look in her eyes told him that she hadn't.

"Yea, I'm okay," he managed, "why would you ask that?"

He shrugged, fidgeting with the Lego piece in his hand, "I don't know. You seem like you're thinking all the time about something else," his eyes flickered up to Sara, "and she seems worried."

Damn, Michael thought, knowing he currently had a deer-in-the-headlights look, but found himself incapable of changing it. He was tired after the long day he'd had, and didn't feel up to the task of parenting- especially not on such dangerous grounds. He gazed back to Sara again, begging to be rescued.

She wandered over and crouched behind Mike, putting her arms around him, "I am worried."

Michael watched as Mike turned his head more towards her, "About what?"

Sara's gaze latched onto Michael's, and he was certain they could both feel the internal struggle; the desire to lie and protect Mike was precisely balanced by the willingness to tell the truth and treat him more like an adult. He was a kid, but he was wise beyond his years and might be able to handle more than they were giving him so far.

Sara turned him around in her arms and sat cross-legged on the floor. Mike collapsed his legs with the ease of a child and sat on his feet, his knees straight out in front of him.

Michael watched on, his mind still foggy and tired, his chest still feeling tighter than it should, as Sara began with, "We're worried about your safety."

"Why?" Mike wondered.

"Well," she sighed, "remember the other day when Veronica picked you up, and I told you that someone made me late on purpose?"

"Yea."

"We're…concerned that something like that might happen again. I'm sorry we've been keeping things from you, but we just didn't want you to worry," she lifted a hand to cup his cheek and Michael noticed a soft glistening in her eyes, "you shouldn't have to worry about things like this."

"But I want to know things," he insisted, a slight irritated tone that Michael hadn't heard before, "I want to know what's going on."

Michael spoke for the first time in a while, "Well, part of the problem is that we don't know. I can't explain what's happening because I'm not sure myself."

It hurt more than he'd like to admit to tell him that; that someone was after his family and he knew very little about how to stop it.

Mike's face changed, and he turned back to Sara, "Is this about Jacob?"

She swallowed hard and blinked back tears, Michael thought he saw a flash of guilt on her face as she replied, "Yea…yea, we think so. But we're going to do everything we can to protect you, and if anything happens…if anyone tries to grab you or anything you need to kick and scream and do anything you can to get away, okay?"

Mike seemed to grasp the severity of the situation and nodded his understanding, "Ok."

"You know are new address, yea? And both of our phone numbers. If you get into trouble you need to find anyone who can help you get back to us."

"I will," he promised, and Michael saw a slight puff of his chest, his posture straightening as if getting ready for such an important task. The gesture coming from the frame of a boy caused his heart to ache again; shoulders that small shouldn't be responsible for carrying such a heavy weight.

"Alright," Sara sniffled, "I think it's bedtime for you," she started to stand up, kissing his hair on the way, "but why don't you put those away first," she gestured to the pile of Legos, not wanting anyone to step on them later.

Mike began the task of cleaning up, and Michael remained sat, watching on and wishing that cleaning up his mess was just as easy.

XXXXXXX

With Mike asleep, Sara lightly made her way across the hallway and into the master. She could hear the shower running and decided to use the few moments until Michael emerged to gather her thoughts.

Where to even begin? She pulled back the covers and got under, adjusting her soft gray sweatpants as she did. She lay on her back as her mind tried to drag her in a million different directions, which ultimately led her nowhere. She had a lot of questions for him, but they all boiled down to one thing: what did they do now?

Sure, she wasn't happy that he'd flown to Chicago without telling her, but in the grand scheme of their relationship that was small potatoes. It wasn't like he left to have an affair or blow all their money, he'd gone to confront the man who was threatening them, and she knew his intentions were in the right place. At this point, she wasn't sure she even wanted to bring that detail up because if they discussed the whole, "why didn't you tell me you were going?" thing…she couldn't imagine a scenario where that conversation led to any useful end.

Next on her mind was the concept of murder. The word itself made her shudder internally; she'd done it. Christina…Bill Kim…she wasn't proud of it. They had been desperate acts where if she hadn't pulled the trigger, the former would've pulled their trigger on Michael instead. She'd saved his life by taking another, and even though she tried to forget it, it was a blemish on her deepest self that she'd never get rid of. She'd killed people.

But to do so intentionally, with premeditation was a different ballgame, and one that she really didn't want Michael dabbling in. Her list of reasons supporting her position was long, but the top two involved moral values and the fact that he'd spend the rest of his life in prison. Again. And if he broke out, they'd be on the run, again, and she couldn't have that.

The water shut off and she took a deep breath, her hand resting on her chest as it inflated and then emptied, her eyes glued to the ceiling. They didn't move from their focal point as Michael eased into the bed next to her, the mattress shifting downward slightly towards him as he turned off the last light, leaving only the soft glow of moonlight from behind the curtains.

"Did you still want to talk?" he asked softly as he turned onto his side to face her.

"I think so, yea," she agreed. They didn't have a set in stone, "don't go to bed angry" rule, but this seemed like it fell into the same category. They needed to discuss this; if not, they'd both just lay awake thinking their own thoughts about it anyways.

"You first," he prompted.

"Alright," she sighed and reluctantly turned his way- staring at the ceiling was way easier than eye contact even in the dim light, but she figured she owed him that much, "what's the end goal, here? I mean, what're we trying to do?"

"To be safe, all of us."

"Clearly, but…how? Are we seriously considering murder? Isn't there a better way, some way we could cut off all his contacts or get him put in solitary…no phone calls? Without feet on the ground on the outside, he can't do anything."

Michael sighed, irritated at Jacob, "He'd find a way."

"So that's it then, we have to kill him?" she was incredulous now, "Michael we can't."

"I can make it look like self-defense."

"How?"

"Well, that'll depend on what his first move is."

She scoffed.

"I can't do anything until he does, but it…it sounds like whatever it is…it'll be soon."

She paused, "He said that?"

"He said that I'd likely find myself motivated to break him out before too long."

Her stomach sank, "Jesus."

"Look, I know this isn't ideal…but it's a game to him. Winners and losers," his hand came to rest on her cheek, "and I'll do whatever it takes to win."

XXXXXXXXX

Sara woke up to her phone buzzing with a call. It was 6:30 on a Saturday, who'd be-?

The screen showed, "Veronica," so she blinked her sleepy eyes and answered with a groggy, "Hello?"

"Morning, hey sorry to bother you but Linc and I wondered if you guys would be up for a big family breakfast this morning at our place."

She chuckled, "Blueberry pancakes?"

She could hear Veronica's smile, "You guessed it."

"What time should we be there?"

"Uhh, how about in an hour or so? I can have everything ready by then."

"We'll be there."

XXXXXXXX

Veronica tried to keep her cool as Charlotte raced around the house. She was busy in the kitchen getting eggs and coffee ready while Lincoln was mixing up the batch of pancakes. It was his specialty that Veronica didn't dare assist him in, but that meant that Charlotte was left virtually unsupervised and she was taking full advantage, bounding from couch to couch, leaving hand smudges on the sliding glass door, and nearly running into Linc on her way out of the living room and down the hallway.

"Hey, easy," Lincoln warned as she darted past, "if I spill this you're cleaning it up."

"Only if you catch me," she challenged and whizzed by again.

"Geez, where does she get that energy from," Lincoln muttered, and Veronica smiled to herself.

"They'll be here soon, Mike can help distract her."

He scoffed, "I feel bad for that kid, throwing Charlotte on him like that."

She backhanded him playfully, "She's a good kid she's just…a lot."

"That's one way to put it. She makes Mike look like a saint. I'm surprised he wants to come over here at all."

She laughed, "Maybe he doesn't. Sara was the one I asked, not Mike."

Lincoln added batter to the pan, giving that satisfying sizzle just as the doorbell rang.

"It's open!" Veronica yelled and heard the knob turn, "hey guys."

"Hey," Sara called and Vee could hear shoes being slipped off and thudding to the side. Mike wandered in, his hands in his pockets and a soft smile on his face.

"Hey you," Veronica greeted him, bopping the top of his head as she breezed by to grab orange juice from the fridge.

"Hi," he smiled, and Veronica felt a temporary stab of envy- why couldn't her kid be so…quiet? Just sometimes…even for an hour-

"Mike!" Charlotte came bounding up behind him, "Mom, can we go outside?"

Dear God yes, she thought, but answered with a more polite, "Sure, hon just uhh," she looked towards Lincoln, wondering if he'd be available to accompany them and supervise, but he was still elbow deep in pancake batter, "just be careful, okay?"

She nodded and grabbed Mike's hand, dragging him behind her towards the sliding door. She reached up and flipped the latch down, then used all of her might to move the door to the side, just enough for her and Mike to squeeze through.

"Char-" she called, wanting her to shut it, but the two kids were long gone.

"I got it," Michael offered with a smirk as he wandered over and closed the door.

"Thanks," she sighed.

Sara looked on with an amused smile, "Looks like someone has been running you guys ragged," she noted as she leaned against the counter.

Veronica rolled her eyes, "That girl, I swear."

Sara chuckled, "Anything I can do to help?"

"Take her home with you for a few days," she half-joked.

A scoff and a smile, "I meant can I help with breakfast, but," she shrugged, and the group laughed, Michael wandering over to where Lincoln was.

"How's work?" Michael asked him, watching as he twirled the spatula around in his hand.

He sighed, "Busy, but good," then cracked a smile, "I feel like all I wanna do on my days off is eat and sleep."

Michael chuckled, "Yea, must be tough, all that physical labor."

"Yea, but I like it…it's what I'm built for. None of that Brainiac stuff."

Veronica poured Michael and Sara a mug of coffee, handing them each one and gesturing to the cream and sugar on the counter, allowing them to help themselves. In her periphery, she saw Charlotte's figure standing outside the door.

She can't be done already, she thought with a sigh, then realized that Charlotte was tugging at the door handle, almost frantically.

Sara noticed too and since she was closer, after a quick eye contact with Veronica, she was heading over that way and assisting the young lady in opening the door.

"Hey, you okay?" Sara asked, crouching down to her level just inside the door.

Charlotte moved past Sara to her other side, clearly wanting to be further away from the door and the backyard. Veronica was there now too, grasping her daughter by the shoulders and forcing her to slow down, "Whoa, whoa," she soothed, "what's going on?"

"Someone's out there," she whimpered.

Sara, "In the yard?" her eyes darted up and Michael read her fear, he and Lincoln dashing past the three of them and going outside.

The three girls followed, watching as Michael called out for Mike, and not getting a response. Veronica went to the side of the house, wondering what the hell was going on, but also knowing that the only way for someone to get into the yard was through the gate on the side. It was an eight-foot, wooden privacy fence; sure, someone could climb it, but that would be rather noticeable. As expected, the gate was unlatched.

Michael and Lincoln followed, darting out of the gate and looking around, still calling for Mike.

Veronica turned to Sara now, who had lagged behind a bit- her arm was around Charlotte's shoulder in a protective gesture, keeping the younger child close as the others looked for Mike.

Veronica approached her, saw the glistening of her eyes, "Sara, what?"

"He's gone," she bent over, hands on knees, "I knew it. I knew this was gonna happen-"

"Who?"

"Jacob. Or…Jacob's people. Emily. Someone else, I don't know."

Michael and Lincoln, panting as they came back in the yard, "There's no sign of them. No cars speeding away, we didn't see anyone on foot…"

"We have to call the police," Veronica insisted, though her mind felt like it was lagging behind, trying to process what was happening, "put out an Amber alert."

Michael, frustrated, "They won't do a thing yet, will they? Don't kids have to be missing for twenty-four hours before they even start looking?"

"He was taken," Veronica insisted, "he didn't run off."

"But will they believe that?" Michael shot back.

"We have a witness," Veronica pointed out, softly, as she gestured to her wide-eyed daughter, still lingering in Sara's shadow.

A look of quiet determination settled onto Michael's face as he approached his niece and crouched down, "Charlotte, I need you to tell me what happened."

Wary, she glared back, suddenly aware of all the attention being on her. Normally, she enjoyed the spotlight, but after such a recent trauma, she seemed far more keen on leaning against Sara's leg until she could disappear behind it.

Sara crouched, her eyes red and somewhat vacant. Veronica could see how hard she was trying to hold on, to not give in to a full break down just yet; she was strong, and clearly good at compartmentalization. Right now, they had to think logically and to act. No time for emotions.

"Charlotte," Sara asked, "what were you two doing, you and Mike?"

She glanced around the group again, but Sara reeled her gaze back to her, "We…we were just playing with the trucks…"

Veronica could tell by Charlotte's tone that she was afraid she was in trouble- the hesitancy was clear.

"Honey, you're not in trouble," Veronica told her softly, "but we really need your help, okay? Whatever you tell us, I promise you won't get in trouble."

This seemed to reassure her a bit, and she took a breath before explaining some more, "We were playing with the trucks and I heard the gate start to move. They were really fast when they came in-"

"-how many people?" Michael asked.

"One," she replied with confidence.

Veronica kept it going, "Was it a boy or a girl?"

"I…" she paused, "I'm not sure."

"What were they wearing?" Sara asked, "what kind of clothes?"

"Umm," she thought hard, "they had a hat and glasses. Umm…and they were wearing something kinda like what daddy wears umm…when he watches football."

"A hoodie?" Veronica supplied, "a sweatshirt, like his gray one?"

"Yea!" she confirmed, "theirs was gray too."

Lincoln sighed, blowing air through his lips and causing them to buzz, "Great so we have a man or a woman, with a hat and glasses and a hoodie-"

"-hey, psssht," Veronica warned, silencing him. Charlotte was their only witness- as limited as her account might be, they needed all the information they could get while it's still fresh in her mind.

Michael spoke softly, "Can you tell us what they did after they opened the gate?"

"They grabbed Mike," she huffed, a clear sign of distress, "and I ran to the door to come get you guys," her voice got quieter, "they grabbed him really fast and I was scared so I ran."

"You did the right thing," Sara told her, her hand rubbing the girl's back before Sara stood up from her crouched position.

Sara stepped closer to Michael, "What do we do?"

Veronica, incredulous, "Are you kidding? We have to call the police."

Michael replied, his index finger and thumb resting against his lips in thought, "The police might make things worse."

"Wanna explain that?" Veronica asked, eyebrows raised.

Michael's gaze traveled directly through her, and he walked past them all and towards the house, muttering, "I need to think."

"What-?" Veronica started.

"We've been expecting this," Sara sighed, "Jacob is trying to get back at us."

"What does he want?" Lincoln asked.

"He uh," Sara ran a hand through her hair, "he wants Michael to break him out."

Lincoln scoffed and Veronica did the same, "And he's using Mike as bait."

"More like a bargaining chip, but yea," Sara replied with an air of dark humor.

"Ok, wait," Veronica shook her head, "he can't keep Mike with him in prison…so where will he be?"

"We don't know."

Veronica's mind was still scrambling when she noticed, after a few second delay, the slight hitch in Sara's voice during her last few words.

"Oh, God I'm so sorry," she moved towards her friend and wrapped her arms around, knowing there was nothing else she could do. This conversation had probably reached it's end of usefulness, and she knew now that being a supporter was her best role. Sara finally gave in and allowed a sob, clutching onto Veronica as Lincoln moved past them and grabbed Charlotte's hand on his way, uttering, "I'll go check on Michael."