1Her soft-soled sneakers made little noise as her feet padded along the pavement at least one hundred feet behind Lincoln Burrows, convicted murderer and big brother to the man she was almost sure she loved. He traveled through obscure pathways between buildings, twisting and winding, like he was expecting someone to follow him, hoping to confuse their directions and lose them along the way.

Michael's mere presence in Chicago made it hard for Sara to focus on anything, and she had contemplated going to find him many times in the past six days. No matter how much she'd wanted to, she couldn't. She didn't even know where he was or if he was even still in the city. When Lincoln showed up at her doorstep, practically begging on his brother's behalf, she was relieved. And terrified.

After twenty minutes of creepy, dark alleyways that lead toward the "Other Side" of Chicago, they arrived at a run-down apartment complex that she was sure housed many other ex-cons who were more menacing than either Lincoln or Michael, or both of them put together, could ever even imagine being. Drug dealers, pimps, and prostitutes lined the inside of the apartments making their living through sin; though she couldn't see them, the stench of the Crystal Meth being cooked inside gave their identities away. A lump formed in her throat. This was no place for Michael, not here. He belonged in his life, in her neighborhood, with a six figure salary and potential.

Sara watched from around the corner as Lincoln arrived at apartment 3B and slipped inside, unnoticed by the criminals around him. She slowly brought herself around the corner, not wanting to draw attention toward her. Tiptoeing, she made her way toward the apartment Lincoln disappeared into. When she reached the window, she found it completely covered in black garbage bag and impossible to see into. Sara maneuvered her way around the window, trying to find an angle at which she could see through one of the cracks at the sides of the window. This proved to be rather hopeless.

As she was about to knock on the door, a deep voice coming from a few feet behind her startled her.

"Hey Doc."

Sara turned, and found a large, mean looking man with a beer belly standing in front of her. She recognized him as an old inmate who came to her only a few times, and remembered his alarmingly low level of intellect, but his name didn't come to her. "Hi…" she avoided his eyes.

"You don't remember my name, do ya Doc?" His pupils pried into the top of her skull as he looked down at her and she glanced briefly at the ground.

"Uh… no, I'm sorry. You were an inmate at Fox River, right?" Finally, she made eye contact and remembered his lazy eye. She shivered. What was his name?

"Yep I sure was Ma'am, got out on parole 'bout, oh, two, three months ago?" He looked proud, and smiled. "What are you doin' down here in these parts?"

"Oh, I… just uh, looking for a friend." Sara forced a smile in his direction.

"Ah." They paused, awkwardly. "Didn't think you'da gone back to Fox River after the riot." He stared at her intently. She recognized something in his eyes that suddenly made her frightened for her life.

"You… were in the infirmary. During the riot." Sara stepped back quickly and put a hand out in front of her to create a barrier between her own body and his. "Ratzi."

"Yeah, Doc, you got it now, don'tcha. Ratzi. You looked so pretty that day all scared and tremblin'. I coulda fucked you all night. I can tell in your eyes you're onea them sinful girls who likes it rough." He reached out and grabbed her arm roughly, and she backed up quickly again, trying not to cry or scream. Maybe she could talk her way out of this situation if she didn't show any fear. The fear, however, glowed like a fire in her eyes. Ratzi saw it. "Aww, now you're not afraid of me now are ya Doc? I'm not gonna hurtcha." He stepped toward her, giggling menacingly.

"You don't have to do anything, you can let me go and you won't be in trouble at all. I won't tell, I promise. Just let go of me, and we can forget anything happened." She pleaded with him, willing him to agree.

He didn't though, and violently shoved her against the side of the building. The air whooshed out of Sara's lungs, and she couldn't breathe to scream. Ratzi grabbed her shirt and ripped it open, roughly fondling her breasts. Her legs were pinned underneath his, her arms were being held behind her. She was trapped.

He slammed her against the building again, taking her breath away one more time. Screaming was impossible for her, as she had no air to speak of. Ratzi came in close to her ear, and whispered "Now you're going to get what's comin' to you, Doc," before smashing her back and head into the wall one last time.

Then, everything was dark.

Sara wasn't out for more than thirty seconds, but when she came to she realized the situation had become dire. Crumpled jeans had rested around her ankles after they'd been pulled down, her shirt's buttons scattered about. She sat with her legs stretched out in front of her, her back propped up on the bricks of the hard wall. Ratzi stood over her, rubbing himself through his jeans, almost like he was waiting for her to wake up so he could enjoy her pain.

"You ain't so pretty now, are ya Doc?"

She craned her neck up. "Fuck you," she growled and, in a sudden burst of energy, tried to lift her right leg to kick him in the groin. Even though he was an extremely large man, he was quick, and Ratzi swooped down and caught her leg before she could make contact. He bent, and slapped her across the face as hard as he could. He picked up her left leg and pulled it into the air, pushing her legs as far apart as they would go. Sara shuddered and moaned in pain. "Stop!" she cried as loud as she could. "Help!"

"Aw, sweetie, ain't nobody gonna come runnin' for ya in these parts. You're all alone," he smirked and looked down between her legs. "Now that's what I like to see. Mmm, mmm, mmm."

Beside her, the door to apartment 3B burst open.

Michael stood before her. "Sara," he cried, sounding as though it was him on the ground. His face showed shock first, quickly changing to an indescribable rage. Ratzi looked at him. "Whaddya think you're doin', pretty boy? You ain't no match for me. I'm gonna take this bitch here and fuck her all I want. Just go back in your house and mind your business."

Without a word, Michael lunged at him forcefully with all the weight and strength he had, knocking both of them to the ground, Michael landing on top of the much larger man. Sara's legs flopped to the ground, and she sat there on the cold cement in horror, shock, and disgust. Michael turned to her, his hands around Ratzi's neck. "Sara, get in the house!" She remained still, unable to move. Michael turned back to the much larger man that sat beneath him, drew back, and punched Ratzi in the face as hard as he could. Immediately, his nose bled.

"Get offa me, you stupid son of a bitch!" Michael punched him again, this time in his eye.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He punched over and over, releasing emotionally charged grunts, hitting Ratzi's face, head, and chest with power he didn't even know existed before that moment. Michael didn't know what came over him, but he couldn't stop throwing his fists in front of him. "She's never done anything to you! FUCK!" Angry tears rolled down Michael's face as his arms began to grow tired. Ratzi lay motionless on the pavement, barely breathing and bleeding in several places.

"Michael, stop." He felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

Sara.

"Oh, God, Sara. What has he done?" Michael turned, rising to meet her eyes. She looked up at him, her face red from the stinging slap Ratzi had given her. He put his arms around her. She shivered.

"Michael, I'm ok, I'm ok. I'm ok, Michael." More tears stung his eyes and rolled into her hair. Sara pulled back away from his chest, and took a step back. She looked down. "Can we go inside?"

He sighed painfully, trying to imagine what was running through her head. Sara looked up at him. He wanted so bad to make everything alright for her, but he couldn't get ahold of his emotions. Michael looked back at Ratzi on the ground, wanting to kick him while he was down. Instead, he walked toward her, extending his arm around her shoulders, and lead her inside.

It was Michael's fault she was there.

And he knew it.