Clara startled at the sight of him while Alex followed her stare to the door and moved instantly, his hand reaching for his gun as his body moved to stand in front of her. Clara could peer over his shoulder as the man entered, a smirk on his face as he held his hands up before pointing down to the gun that Alex was holding.

"No need for that, Alex," he spoke with a joking laugh. "I come here in peace. You see; I hope that we can work something out…us three."

"I saw you," Clara spoke. "I saw you less than six hours ago trying to break into my hotel room and kill me."

The man sat down in the chair at Alex's desk while Alex and Clara remained stood behind the desk. She didn't dare move out from behind Alex, after all, he was the one who was holding the gun by his side. Remaining still, Clara watched the man pull his gun out and rest it on the desk before folding one leg over the other.

"Things have changed," the man said, "but firstly, let me introduce myself. My name is Paul…Paul Kellerman."

"I'd introduce myself but I get the feeling you know who I am," Clara spoke.

"Yeah," Paul chuckled. "And, I have to say, I was pretty impressed, Alex. You've hidden her very well, for what, forty-eight hours? How long are you going to keep it up for?"

"As long as I need to," Alex said and finally took a seat in his chair while Clara remained stood, preparing not to take a seat. Alex placed his gun on his desk too, lacing his fingers together as he shifted nervously in his chair, his stare not once leaving Paul. "What is this about?"

"We came to a realisation," Paul declared. "You see, killing Miss Reynolds over there would keep her quiet, but would it keep you on track? We can't have any sloppy work, Alex. You know that. So, you see, we will keep Clara alive. She can go back to her boring job and you don't need to worry about her."

"And how do I know I can trust you?" Alex enquired. "Who is to say that you won't kill her as soon as we step outside of this room?"

Paul shrugged, his hand moving into his pocket before he pulled out his phone. Clara gulped loudly as he brought something onto the screen and turned it to face them. Alex pulled his glasses from his pocket, slipping them onto his nose for a clearer view. But Clara could see perfectly. Leaning forwards over the desk, Clara felt her blood run cold at the sight she was seeing, her eyes widening.

"Just as we thought," Paul spoke. "You see, she is exactly like you, Alex…he might be her ex, but she just cannot let go."

"I let go," Clara said, trying not to think of the picture of Tom she had just seen on the cell. "I let go of him months ago, but that doesn't mean I want him dead."

"Excellent," Paul said. "Then you should know how this goes, Miss Reynolds. If we hear a whiff of you speaking what you know…whatever he has told you-"

"-She knows nothing," Alex interrupted, lying to try to cover her back. "She knows that you're blackmailing me over Shales and that is it."

"Good," Paul said. "Because if she goes to the police and tries to turn herself in then she can spend the rest of her days knowing that Tom Ballad's death is on her hands."

Clara looked away, turning her head to look into the empty office, wondering where all the agents had gone. No one was watching then. No one was there to keep them safe. Clara could feel herself begin to sweat, her hand running over her forehead before she heard Paul shuffle again, moving to his feet.

"I take it you know that going to the police will not deter us?" Paul said.

"I get the feeling I do," Clara whispered. "So what do I do? I go back to playing ignorant?"

"Exactly," Paul told her. "You go back to your normal and boring life…forget about Shales…forget about us…and everything stays normal. We'll even permit Alex to check up on you to make sure we keep our promise, but we will be watching and listening. Any whiff of you going to the police or going to speak to anyone you shouldn't and…" he trailed off, pressing two fingers to his temple and making the sound of a pop and symbol of a gun as Clara didn't know whether to scream or cry at him.

"Would it not be easier to kill me?" Clara demanded.

"Clara," Alex warned her as Paul pocketed his gun.

"Yes," Paul agreed with her, "but we need our agent here focused and killing you wouldn't do that. It would destabilise him…the woman he hid secrets for…protected…weird, Alex, you're getting soft."

"Just get out," Alex demanded.

The man did as Alex had demanded and the agent sunk back down into his chair while Clara leant against the wall, her back making contact with it as her head tilted back and she sunk down to the floor, crouching down there and unable to stop herself from wanting to be ill. As a matter of fact, she felt instantly sick.

Leaving the room, she took off through the office in the direction of the toilets, flinging the door wide open and letting it bounce off the wall as it shut again. She reached a cubicle and fell to the floor, her hands holding the bowl of a toilet as she emptied her guts, that burger she had eaten the night before not feeling like such a good idea.

"Clara!" he called her name out loud and she felt herself continue to wretch into the bowl. She said nothing as Alex heard the noise and he knew instantly what was happening. He had the same reaction when he found out.

He didn't leave the bathroom, instead he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled his pen out, swallowing his pills without a second thought. It was only when her retching stopped did he hear it. It was the next stage. Grief. He heard her loudly begin to sob and he didn't know what to do. He knew that she would want her privacy. He knew that she wouldn't want anyone to hear her, but he was not just anyone.

He was in this with her.

He stayed by the door as he heard her flush the toilet and move from the cubicle, walking to the sink and grabbing hold of it. She bent her head over it and then lost her temper. Hitting the sides of it with her fists, Alex moved with haste, knowing full well that it would be only a matter of time before she did damage with her fists.

"Clara!" he yelled her name again.

"No!" she roared. "No…this cannot be happening…none of this!"

"Clara, you're going to injure yourself," he warned her and then moved with haste, taking hold of her by the wrists and pulling her body away from the sink as she bowed her head, tears falling down her cheek and her mouth agape as she struggled for breath.

It was like the night she had been informed of her sister's death all over again. It was like that.

"Come on, Clara," he whispered to her, loosening his grip on her wrist. "Everything will be fine. They won't touch him."

"But they know," Clara whispered, her eyes wet as she managed to look up at Alex. "They know about him…why…how? I…I just want him to be safe."

"He will be," Alex promised her. "You can go back to your life and he will be fine so long as you keep quiet. It will all be fine now. I promise you."

"How is this fine?" she demanded from him. "None of this is fine, Alex. Tom…how can I trust these people? How can I trust that they won't shoot me as soon as I leave this place? Or Tom?"

"Because they don't lie," Alex assured her. "They don't lie, Clara. They say what they mean and that is all you need to know. Just believe me."

"After you lied to me?" she asked of him.

"You know why I did that," Alex informed her. "You know I lied to you to keep you safe. I know how this feels, Clara, to have the people you love held at gunpoint because you need to do something…but all you need to do is keep quiet. You just need to keep quiet…"

"I know," she whispered, keeping her head bowed, as she was well aware that her breath probably smelt horrific. Saying nothing further, she felt Alex slowly move his hands down to wrists, holding onto her elbow instead as she sniffed loudly.

"I'll keep an eye on you," Alex promised her. "Check in to make sure everything is fine."

"You don't need to," she told him.

"I should," he said.

"You have your own family to worry about," she said. "Alex, what they are making you do…I'm sorry."

"Yeah," he said. "Not as sorry as I am."

"But I feel like it is my fault," she admitted, moving to look at her reflection in the mirror, running the cold water tap before splashing it on her face, cooling her reddening cheeks. "Because I was the one who lured Shales out. I was the one who wanted him dead."

He shook his head. "You weren't the only one who wanted him dead. I…I knew that if I caught him then I wasn't going to let him leave alive, Clara. I wanted him gone as much as you did. Well, perhaps not as much, but I did want him gone."

"I still feel guilty."

"No need," Alex told her. "Come on, I'll drive you back home. You'll be safe. I promise."

…

Clara went about her day as normal. Alex had dropped her off at her house, insisting that she should call him if anything felt off or wrong. She had agreed, but she didn't feel like it was in her place. Instead she had found herself looking at Tom's number on her cell, wondering if she should call him. She wanted to call him. She wanted to make sure that he was okay.

But she didn't. She knew he would be suspicious if she did phone him, plus people were listening. She didn't dare do it. Instead she stayed awake for the remainder of the night and took the day off of work, knowing that she would be no use to anyone. She sat in the living room, turning the TV on and watching the news. It was all about the Fox River Eight anyway. She wondered how Alex was doing with the case.

He had told her about the LJ Burrows kid yesterday, but she wondered if there had been any breakthrough since then.

Alexander Mahone. Somehow he had been dragged back into her life and she didn't really know why. She didn't understand how in two days her life had gone from normal to anything but normal. She didn't hate Alex for anything. She pitied him, really. She felt sorry for him.

There had been a time when he had been the only person she trusted. When she looked at him and told her that he would have Shales for what he did to her sister, she believed him. She knew he had been telling her the truth.

Clara went through her days unsure of what to do. She would have the occasional message from Alex, asking her if she was fine and doing well. She had said yes to each one, asking how he was doing. He responded with two letters O and K. that was it. She didn't expect to see him again, but it was five days later when he made an appearance on her doorstep.

Alex watched as she opened the door, shock on her face and he didn't know who looked worse. She had a glass of wine in her fingertips and by the looks of her it wasn't her first. Alex frowned, wondering what he was doing on her doorstep. He should never have come. He should never have bothered her with his problems, but she was the only one who knew.

"Clara," he spoke her name. "What…how many of those have you had?"

"This is the fourth," she said, peering down to the liquid. "Funnily enough you're not supposed to drink when taking sleeping pills…well…not this much, anyway."

"What's happened?" Alex asked of her.

"Nothing," she said. "I'm just having a drink. Do you want one?"

"No, thanks," Alex said, thinking of the pen in his pocket and his pills inside of it. "Look, I don't know why I came here. It was stupid…I…"

"Come to the back," Clara said, stepping out of her house and shutting the door, stepping down the staircase of the porch and around her house, pushing the wooden gate open that led to her spacious backyard.

Alex followed her, looking around. No doubt a lecturer's salary wasn't too bad judging by the state of her yard. He looked around, seeing how a patio area led from her kitchen. A small pond sat in the corner, but there were no fish in it. It was merely a water feature. In the corner of the yard sat a row of trees, their leaves dangling and creating a shaded area where a bench sat. Clara headed over to the bench, perching on the edge of it as Alex followed her and sat down.

"I don't know if they have bugged my house," she explained and he nodded.

"I'd suspect they have."

"Good job I haven't said anything incriminating then," she muttered to him. "Anyway, what are you doing here? I heard you were in Utah on the news. They said that a woman had been taken hostage along with her daughter while the convicts did work in her house. She didn't know what they were doing."

"I did," Alex mumbled. "There was this man called D.B. Cooper. He was an aircraft hijacker back in the early '70s. Anyway, turns out he stole a great deal of money…jumped from a plane and landed straight in Utah…in that woman's garage where the cons were looking for the money."

Clara felt her eyes widen before she let a laugh escape her, the noise loud and shrill as Alex watched her, looking less than amused with her antics. Shaking her head back and forth, she scoffed before moving her lips to her wine glass and sipping on the red liquid sat inside of it.

"I'm sorry," she said once she had gulped the liquid down. "Do you have any idea how insane that sounds?"

"Just as insane as eight convicts breaking out a jail?" he asked. "We're kind of living in a weird period."

"Yeah, no shit," Clara muttered, the smile falling from her face. "That still doesn't explain why you're here."

"No," Alex agreed. "There was this kid with him…young guy who…we caught."

He said nothing further and Clara bowed her head, managing to put her wine glass down on the floor before pulling her legs up to her chin. She wrapped her arms around her thighs before letting her cheek rest on her kneecaps. Alex bent forwards then, hands clasped in between his legs. He said nothing further, but he knew that she knew. He was aware of that.

"I'm sorry." Clara whispered.

"He was a kid," Alex muttered. "He was just a kid, Clara…wrong place at the wrong time."

Clara didn't even know what to say, closing her eyes she heard Alex sniff loudly, his hand running under his nose before he raked a hand through his hair. Clara didn't dare more, but she could see him struggling to hold back the tears he wanted to let out. She knew all about that.

"I shouldn't have come here," he said, shaking his head as he made a move to stand, but Clara moved then, her hand wrapping around his wrist to stop him. He turned his head over the shoulder, looking her in the eye.

"I get it," she promised him.

"I mean…Abruzzi was not my fault, Clara," he said in a small voice. "Well, I could have dealt better with the situation, but the kid…"

Clara had heard about the mob boss who had been shot after refusing to surrender. She had heard that and thought that Alex couldn't have had anything to do with that one. How could he?

"This is going to ruin you," Clara told him as he sunk back down, this time slightly closer to her as she leant forwards to peer at him, her hand still on his wrist and holding it tightly. "Alex, this is going to destroy you and we both know it. Do you think I haven't noticed?"

Frowning, Alex watched as Clara moved boldly to his jacket, her hand slipping inside of it as Alex remained still, feeling her fingers move into the inside pocket of his jacket before she pulled it out. Holding it in her fingers, she looked at him before unscrewing the bottom of it.

"You gave me your jacket the other night," she informed him. "I felt it then and had a look when I was changing in the bathroom. What are they?"

"You had no right to do that," he informed her.

"Perhaps not," she said as he tried to lunge for the pen but she pulled it behind her, glaring at him. "But I know an addict when I see one, or did you forget that Theresa had her demons when she was in college?"

"I'm not an addict," he denied.

"No?" she asked. "Then you won't mind me keeping these then?"

He knew that she had him. She was reading him well. He could see that. He moved with haste then, the strength of him taking her off guard as he leant around her grabbing her arm and forcing it from her behind her back. She winced in pain before she let him take the pen from her grip, holding her arm from where he had gripped it.

"So you're not an addict then?" Clara scoffed, standing up and letting her shirt fall down her body again, her jeans slightly wrinkled. Moving back to her house, she felt Alex move behind her, taking her elbow gently this time.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "Clara…I…you have no idea…"

"I do," she said, moving to stand before him, prodding him in the shoulder. "I get it, Alex. I was there when we killed Shales."

"You're not here now!" Alex snapped at her, voice loud and demanding, his hand pointing to the ground as he became erratic. "You're not the one having to do this to these men! You're not the one who has to look them in the eye before you take away their life!"

She recoiled from him them, seeing how he bowed his head, hands moving to his hair and tugging it harshly and she saw him began to wheeze loudly and she knew he was on the verge of a breakdown. She said nothing before moving to take hold of his arm, steering him back to the bench where they were covered in shade. She forced him to sit down on the bench again as he pulled to loosen his tie.

"I need to get through this," he gasped as Clara ran a hand up and down his arm liked she used to when Theresa was stressed and worried. She doubted it would work, but she was willing to try. "I need to do this for Pam and Cameron."

"I know," she told him. "I know, Alex."

"I need to keep going," he said. "I should get back to headquarters. I need to get back to work. They're holding a review tomorrow. Apparently the two deaths look suspicious."

"Will they find out?"

"Doubt it," Alex said. "But I'm going to prepare anyway."

"And those pills?" Clara said. "Alex, they're going to ruin you. You need to give them up."

"I can't," he said. "They help to keep me functioning. Look, I'm sorry, Clara. I should never have come here and burdened you with this. It's just…sometimes it's like there is no one…and that's my fault, but I wanted to make sure you were fine too."

"Better than you," Clara scoffed and Alex nodded at that.

"Wouldn't take much."

…

A/N: So I don't know if anyone is really reading, but if you are then please, please, let me know what you think!