"Alright, talk to me," Michael told Alex as he slid the glass door behind him and stepped out onto the deck. He wanted coffee, but that would have to wait.

Alex sighed, though it was barely audible. He seemed as though he was hesitant to share his idea, yet clearly felt strongly enough about it to call. It was strange, Alex being steeped in uncertainty, but Michael vowed to keep an open mind before he began speaking, "I know we mentioned it before as a possibility, but I think I could justify bringing him in for questioning."

"The prison transport van idea," Michael latched on, happy to have something solid in his mind.

"Yes, I know we dismissed it before-"

"No, this is good, what're you thinking?" He prompted.

"I can't dig too deep into the C.I.A's operations…for obvious reasons, but the whole thing with twenty-one void…they've gotta have unanswered questions. I can't imagine that they'd wanna bury the whole thing and never learn more about how one man was able to do what he did. I'm hoping they'd wanna learn from their mistakes…and prevent something like this from happening again."

"But I talked to them before," Michael pointed out, "right after Jacob was arrested."

"Yea but for how long? An hour? I doubt you gave them the ins and outs of everything."

"True," Michael agreed, "it was more of a briefing. Bullet points of key events, enough to get Jacob thrown into Fox River and to keep me out of it," he went back to Mahone's idea, "ok, so that's what we tell them to get Jacob transported, but what really happens? And who transports him? It can't just be you."

Michael sensed hesitation on the other end of the line. Mahone cleared his throat, "I know you have a checkered past, but I was thinking about asking Kellerman. He's the only one who can fully understand this. I'd say Felicia, but I really don't wanna get her mixed up in this."

"Could Kellerman do that? I mean, would it be suspicious to ask him?"

"I can't see why it would. This is a delicate situation, I can just persuade the higher ups that I need a partner I can trust."

Michael considered this as he wandered over to the railing and rested his forearm against it, "And once we get Jacob into the van?"

A pause, "I was gonna leave that up to you."

Michael heard faint noises behind him and turned his head, catching a glance of Sara, still in the shorts and tank top she'd slept in, wandering into the kitchen. She ran a hand through her hair and grabbed a coffee mug, the picture of domestic bliss that he'd longed for for years. Michael sighed. What was he willing to risk? How far would he have to take this? Did he really want Jacob dead? Obviously, they'd have to find Mike first but…

"That's a big decision," he admitted.

A genuine, "I know," and Michael remembered when Mahone was in his shoes. Wyatt. Exacting revenge on the man who didn't just kidnap his child, but killed him.

Michael asked quietly, "Was it worth it? For you, I mean."

Mahone exhaled audibly, taking a moment before answering. Michael could practically see him in his mind, scuffing his shoes on the ground, his eyes lowering as he replied, "I did what I had to do."

XXXXXXX

"I brought breakfast," Sara announced as she plopped the bag onto the small table in Lincoln's room. Veronica and Charlotte were already back, and Veronica looked like she hadn't slept a wink.

It was a bit crowded in the small hospital room with three guests. It would've been four, but Michael had stayed behind, something about his phone call with Mahone had clearly given him enough to think about and he couldn't deal with any real distractions. Sara tried to ask him what it was all about but his gaze had been vacant and his mind seemed a million miles away. She knew when he was in that state it was like talking to a wall, so she took it upon herself to get food for Vee and Charlotte, doing what she could to help out.

"Thanks," Veronica replied, but didn't move towards the food.

Sara opened the bag and plopped one of the wrapped breakfast sandwiches into her lap, "Eat, you need to take care of yourself too."

"Ha ha," she scoffed, "haven't done that in years."

Sara rolled her eyes, "Motherhood, I get it. But still."

Veronica sighed and unwrapped the sandwich as Sara grabbed another one and opened it up for Charlotte, her niece taking it greedily and sitting down on the floor to start munching. There were only two chairs in the room, but Charlotte didn't seem bothered at all by setting up camp on the floor.

"How's he doing?" Sara asked.

Veronica nodded as she finished chewing a bite, "Doctors said the surgery went well. He woke up for a little bit earlier but he was really out of it," her gaze fell on her husband, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, "I want to talk to him, of course, but I don't want him in pain either. If he's blissfully out of it right now…might be better for him anyways."

"He's tough," Sara offered, "not gonna let a little metal stop him. I'm sure he'll be happy you guys are here whenever he wakes up again."

Veronica let the words sink in, then asked, "How're things with you guys, with…with Mike? Any news?"

Sara sighed, "Not really…a few leads maybe…I don't know if I can really call them "leads" but we've learned a bit more about what Jacob might be planning."

"Oh?"

"Alex found searches on Emily's phone about Panama…looking for a house…I don't know."

Veronica's brows raised, "Panama? Really?"

She scoffed and wriggled her hands into her jacket pockets, "I know. I'm trying to be amused but-"

Veronica laughed, "-be amused! He's so jealous of Michael he's literally starting to copy his plan."

Sara lowered her head and allowed herself a genuine smile, adding an almost sassy, "Yea, yea I guess you're right…Panama, Fox River, marrying me," she added that last one with a heavy dose of irony and sarcasm.

Veronica playfully nudged her arm, "Right!? Man can't think for himself."

Sara let the smile rest on her lips; it felt so nice…freeing almost, to be able to joke about it, about…him. He manipulated her and married her as part of some twisted scheme; making light of it hadn't felt like a possibility before. But with her and Michael on solid ground, and having a friend who understood it all? It was nice to be able to laugh about it, despite how much darkness had come from it all. Her chest constricted in a mix of relief and some other emotion she couldn't name- maybe gratitude? Whatever it was, it threatened to overwhelm her.

A groan stole her attention, her eyes darting over to the hospital bed as Lincoln stirred. Veronica set her food down on the table and went over to him, "Hey, hey I'm here."

He groaned in response, eyes fluttering open and shut.

"How're you feeling?"

"Ugh," he muttered, "like shit," then after a moment, "what happened?"

Veronica kept her gaze locked onto Lincoln, "You had an accident at work, you remember?"

He paused a second to think, then gave a simple, "Yup."

"You had surgery, but the doctor's say you'll be fine, you just need time to heal."

"How much time?"

"They're guessing you'll be here for another week or so."

His eyes widened, "A week?!"

"You had major surgery on your leg."

"Yea on my leg not my heart, a week? Really? They just want more money."

Veronica rolled her eyes and turned back to Sara, "Help, please."

Sara laughed and came over, summoning her bedside manner. She stood behind Veronica with her hands still in her pockets, knowing that Lincoln wouldn't be as receptive if she patted his hand or God forbid-tried to give him a hug. He wasn't touchy-feely and she respected that. Part of good bedside manner was knowing your patient- what they wanted, and what would help them the most.

"We can see about getting you outta here sooner," she started, "they'll just wanna make sure nothing gets infected and that you're stable before they release you."

"Stable?" He asked with a smirk, "might be here forever then."

Veronica tried and failed to hide her amusement, "Yea, he's gonna be fine."

XXXXXX

Justin looked at Jacob incredulously, "You want me to what?"

"Just enough to injure me," he emphasized.

"No way, uh-uh," he shook his head vigorously side to side. Jacob gave an inquisitive look and Justin shrugged, "They'll know it was me and I'll get time added. No way."

"How would they know it was you?" Jacob asked, leaning a little closer. They were in the chow hall and Jacob was sitting across from his ally.

"I don't know," Justin started to squirm slightly under his gaze, "they find that kinda shit out though. Someone will see something and talk, and that'll be the end of it. I ain't doing more time for you. Not for anyone."

"It has to be you," Jacob pressed on, "I can't do it to myself and you're one of the few people in here that I trust." He added that last part to play on his emotions, make him feel special.

Justin just stared at him, clearly thinking Jacob had gone off his rocker, "Why?"

Bluntly, "I need to get sent to the hospital again."

He asked again, "Why?"

A pause, "The less you know the better."

"I…" he shook his head, "I can't do it."

"What if we made it look like an accident?"

Justin hesitated, the smallest sliver of doubt entering his mind, an opening for Jacob to drive the wedge in deeper.

"How?"

"Well, I haven't thought that far yet," Jacob admitted. If Justin had just agreed to do it in the first place he wouldn't have to come up with a way to make it look like some freak accident.

Justin scoffed, "You're a piece of work, you know that?"

Jacob's lips formed a thin smile, "I'll come up with something. Just be ready to help me out, ok? It has to be soon."

XXXXXXXX

"Hey," Sara draped her purse on the back of a dining room chair and approached Michael from behind. He was sitting on the couch, one ankle resting on top of the other knee, his arms behind his head, cradling it. An untrained eye would assume he was relaxing- enjoying the crisp evening air that was drifting in through the screen door, but Sara knew better. His elevated foot was bouncing up and down which meant his mind was going a mile a minute.

"How're you?" She asked as her hands came to rest on either shoulder, planting a kiss on top of his head as his fingers released themselves from being interlaced and he lowered his arms.

"Fine," he answered simply as he turned his head around to face her, but she was already on her way around the side of the couch, and plopped down next to him. Her elbow rested against the back of it and she rested her head on her hand.

"You're just a man of so many words today," she teased, remembering the very short snippets she'd received this morning. After he got off the phone with Mahone he couldn't be bothered with forming sentences.

He smirked, almost looking guilty, "Sorry."

She waited for elaboration but got none. Her free hand came up to count as she illustrated her point, listing off his few words from today, "Fine. Sorry. That's all I get, huh?"

"How's Linc?"

She nodded, slightly satisfied by his question, "He'll be okay. He's still in and out of it but assuming there aren't any complications…he'll recover in about a week or so, enough to go home anyways."

"A week?" His eyebrows raised, "he's not gonna like that."

She laughed, "Already complained about it, that was one of the first things he said."

"Well that's a good sign. If he wanted to stay I'd be worried."

She gave a breathy laugh in agreement before scooting closer, snuggling in. She was tired, she realized as her head came to rest against him. He shifted around slightly to make them both more comfortable, his arm lifting up and wrapping around her so her cheek could rest against the thin gray fabric on his chest.

Her mind lulled as she listened to his heart, and the steady sounds of breathing coming from both of them. She wanted to ask about Mahone, about what he'd learned and what he was thinking…but this was nice too. The comfort sucked her in, and she couldn't find the willpower to defy it. She didn't want to.

After a while, his chest rumbled against her ear as his voice broke the silence, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you what was going on earlier."

She lifted her head, not able to meet his eyes, but it was enough to indicate that he had her attention, "It's okay, tell me now."

"He thinks the prisoner transport van is the best idea. If Mahone can justify bringing Jacob in for questioning, he said that…well, he thinks he can get Kellerman to help."

She scoffed, "Of course."

"I know you don't like him-"

"-it's complicated," she corrected him, "I know he's helped us, I know that…but every damn time I think of him I go back to almost drowning and I just," she clenched her fists, noticing her heartbeat quickening, "he lied to me. A lot. He made me think he was my friend and then…"

"…and then he tried to kill you," Michael finished quietly.

She sighed, "Yea," she paused and then continued, sounding frustrated, "but then he testified on my behalf, and then he helped us all get exonerated," she buried her head back in his chest, "You know what? It's fine. If he can help us get Mike back, none of the rest of it matters. I just…I really can't shake that memory."

Michael squeezed his arm around her tighter, "It was a near-death experience, it's bound to color your perception of the person who inflicted it," he kissed her hair, "cut yourself some slack."

She scoffed again, almost inaudibly, "I guess."

He kissed her hair again, the pressure of his lips on the top of her head was steady, lingering, calming. When the pressure let up she lifted her head, pecking his lips with hers before he could get away. He smiled at the surprise, but quickly retaliated by kissing her passionately, almost exaggerating it, his hand holding firm against the back of her head, swiftly laying her down sideways on the couch and squeezing in beside her. Before she could register what was happening she was on her back, hungrily making out with the man who was half beside and half on top of her.

He always did things like that- he'd be all shy and mysterious, his focus inward and then in an instant he'd be the most attentive lover she'd ever had. Did he do it on purpose? Did he know how frustrating and alluring it was to never know when he'd turn into this version of himself? It's not like every time she gave him a sneaky kiss it turned into this. If it did she'd never get anything done.

The initial shock of desire between her legs was nearing discomfort now as his lips traveled down her neck, "Can we," she started to ask between breaths, "move?" She managed as her mind set up residence in the clouds.

He lifted slightly, "Move?"

"To the bed," she clarified and he smirked, "what?" She asked with a laugh.

"Nothing," he said with a smile as he started to get up.

"This is your fault," she teased as she sat up and swung her feet onto the floor.

"You started it," he retorted as he pulled his shirt off and tossed it onto the couch.

She huffed with a smile, "Barely. Your response was totally disproportionate."

"Oh I'm sorry, it won't happen again," he joked as they went up the stairs.

"Yes it will," she shot back, though not at all disappointed by that possibility.

"I just missed you today, that's all," he replied innocently as he sat down on the bed, waiting as she pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it aside.

"Guess I should be gone more often then," she decided as she pushed him down onto his back and straddled him, interlacing her fingers with his and pressing his hands into the mattress. She tossed her hair to one side as she bent at the hips, pressing her chest against his and devouring his lips.

"I don't want you gone more often," he replied between kisses but by then she'd forgotten what she'd even said to elicit that as a response.

"I won't be," she kissed him, "I'll be here."

His hands escaped hers and his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her against him so tightly, desperately.

"Good," he whispered against her neck, "you have to be."

"I will be," she repeated, kissing his cheek, his forehead, offering reassurance that he needed, the vice grip he had on her torso being a clear indication.

Softly, "I can't lose anyone else."

She pulled her head back enough to meet his eyes, her hand resting on his cheek, "You won't."

His eyes started to get that stubborn, worried look, "How can you know?"

She sighed, not thrilled by this distraction, but knew he wouldn't be able to focus on the matter at hand until he was convinced she wasn't about to vanish into thin air, "You seem to be forgetting something," she cleared her throat, "I've cheated death on multiple occasions, it's becoming one of my best skills."

He smirked a little, "Is that so?"

Nodding emphatically, "It's about to go on my résumé, it's that official."

He laughed, "What'll you put, "Death defier?""

"That sounds good," she agreed, "I've got years of experience with it too, that's gotta count for something."

His eyes had fully shifted from worried to amused and she saw her opportunity, lowering down again to kiss him tenderly, teasingly, as a smile formed on his lips, "So now can we…?" She asked.

A twinkle in his eye was her only warning before he flipped her over, going back to the Michael he'd been on the couch downstairs. She practically got whiplash trying to keep up with his changing state of mind, but she was just glad to be back in the pleasant one, the one that she selfishly wished he was in a lot more often.