Clara didn't know what she was doing. She knew she was being foolish. She was being ridiculous. What made her think that he wanted to be near her after everything she had put him through? He kept claiming that he would have killed Shales, regardless of whether or not she turned up, but she doubted him. She doubted it and now she felt as though he was in this entire mess because of her.

"Clara…put the gun down…" his voice had sounded so calm in contrast to Shales's hysterical tone. He kept laughing at her. He kept laughing at her and telling her that she didn't have the guts. But the man behind her was calmer. She felt his light touch on her arm, his hand moving to her other shoulder as his fingers ran down her arm to her wrist, his voice in her ear. "Clara, this will not bring your sister back…this will not bring Theresa back to you…don't give him the satisfaction."

She should have just shot him and confessed. She should have let Alex put her in handcuffs and drag her away. Tom might have stood by her side through the trial and the prison sentence. He might have been able to wait for her. But she hid it and that drove her even madder than she had ever anticipated. Alex had told her to forget it, but he knew that there was no forgetting the look of a man dying.

And now he had found himself in an even worse situation and Clara was continuously blaming herself. She suspected that was why she found herself waiting outside headquarters the following evening. It had just struck ten in the evening and the car park was practically empty, except for her car and a couple of SUVs. She had sent him a text and she had waited by the barrier, arms folded over her stomach as she wondered if he even checked his phone.

Feeling ridiculous, she had been about to turn and leave before she heard the door open. Turning her head over her shoulder, she tucked her hair behind one ear as she saw him stood there, still holding the door wide open. Smiling softly, Clara moved up the ramp of the building and stood before him as he began to fret.

"Is something wrong? Did they do something to you?" he demanded and Clara shook her head at his panic.

"No," she replied. "Nothing has happened…I just…after yesterday…"

"Forget it," Alex waved a hand. "The internal investigation has gone away. Sullins didn't get to humiliate me in front of everyone like he wanted to."

"I doubt he wanted that."

"You don't know Sullins," Alex responded, his voice low and gravelly as he went back to his original thought process. "So what brings you down here? I have to tell you, Clara, after yesterday…me coming over…I thought that you might not want to see me again."

"Actually, your little trip had the opposite effect," Clara explained and he saw her tug her mac closer around her body. "I want to help. I know that I can't help you…well…in the field…but…I can help in other ways. Sometimes talking can help, Alex. You told me that when Theresa died. You sat there and you listened to me for hours. You listened to me tell you things I could never tell Tom. I just wanted to extend the same courtesy."

Alex frowned, but there was a look of surprise on his face as he heard her speak. Shaking his head, Alex dropped the door from his grip and moved his hands to his hips, peering at Clara with intrigue as she remained stood before him. He could not deny that the woman in front of him was the only one he felt comfortable around these days. She was the only one who knew, he suspected that was the reason why.

"Why do you want to help me?" Alex asked of her.

"Because I feel as though you are in this situation because of me," she said, holding a hand up to keep him silent before he could argue with her. "And that feeling will not go away, despite what you say."

"Clara, it is fine-"

"-It isn't," Clara interrupted him. "None of this is fine. You're addicted to those drugs…being blackmailed…just…you might not want to talk about those things, but if you keep things bottled up then you'll just explode."

Alex sighed. He agreed with her on that one. His hand moved to feel the pen inside of his jacket, but he didn't pull it out. Clara pretended not to notice the motion, but she did. She saw exactly what he was doing. She said nothing, choosing to remain mute as Alex nodded his head.

"I could do with a breather," he mumbled. "Just let me go and get my coat."

…

"It's funny, really," Clara said, sipping on her coffee as they sat in the diner just two blocks away from headquarters after Alex had complained that he shouldn't wander off too far in case he was needed urgently back at the office. "I used to see you doing press conferences years ago. I never thought I'd be sitting with you."

Alex chuckled, picking up his own cup and peering down into its depths. "Yeah, you and me both. They tell you never to get attached to the people you help…I mean, show them compassion, yeah, but never get in too deep. It drives you mad."

"And you got in too deep?" Clara wondered and Alex lifted his gaze to meet hers, eyeing her with caution.

"I'd say so," he muttered, thinking of everything that he had done for the woman who was sat across from him. He often found himself looking at her, wondering what was running through her mind. She had not ran away from him. She had insisted on being there and that was what made Alex weary. He pushed people away from him. He was a time bomb and he knew it was only a matter of time before he exploded. It was why he had insisted Pam and Cameron left. It was why he had ended their marriage.

But here he sat, a stained coffee mug in his grip, his head pounding from thinking too hard and the inquiry, and Clara Reynolds sat across from him.

"I still don't get why you're doing this," Alex said and Clara rolled her eyes at his concern once more before she dared to reach down and pick up the sugar, pouring some more into her coffee.

"Because…yeah…okay…I'm here for you after all you did for me…but…you're the only one who gets it, Alex. I tried to keep my normal friends, but they ended up abandoning me when Tom left. They wanted nothing more to do with me, especially when I stopped picking up their calls and socialising. Every time I went out I swore I saw Theresa and then I would…well…let's just say Tom put up with some embarrassing moments." Clara explained, a bitter laugh escaping as Alex let his hand move through his hair, ruffling it before he curled it back around his cup and listened to her.

"I mean, I threw myself into my work and finished my PhD. It distracted me. I needed those distractions…where I could lock myself away and just focus on something. But being out and about…I didn't focus on anything other than people who looked at me."

Alex didn't know what to say to her on that note. He didn't know what more he could say as she peered down to where her engagement ring had once sat, wondering if the wedding ring would have joined it by now if things had been different. She inhaled a sharp breath before peering over to Alex and then back down.

"I know it is ridiculous," she confirmed with him. "I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes I just…"

She didn't know what she wanted to say. She had no idea what it was she wanted to tell Alex, but he seemed to understand. Moving a hand across the table, he let his fingers go and rest on her wrist, holding it gently, feeling her cold hands as he let his larger fingers cup her skin.

"I get it," Alex told her and then retracted his hand once she had looked at him. "Okay? I get it, Clara."

They lapsed into silence and Alex wondered what he should say after her declaration. He had no words. He didn't want to talk about himself or what he was doing. He didn't want to talk about Pam or Cameron. He didn't want to discuss anything personal, but perhaps it might be nice to discuss something other than work.

"I take it things have gone back to normal?" Alex asked her, realising that he hadn't done this in a long time.

Clara nodded, taking another sip of her coffee. "Normal enough," she told him. "I took a couple of days off work, but I went back after that. I don't deal well with sitting at home. I'm thinking of moving anyway. Tom took off and half the house is his so I need to downsize."

"Anywhere in mind?"

"There's a little neighbourhood near campus," Clara said. "It would mean that I would be able to walk to work instead of driving. That would be nice…plus it would give me more time to lie in bed."

Alex chuckled, glugging his coffee. "I don't get people who would rather stay in bed than get up and do things," he told her. "If you lie in then you just waste half the day."

Rolling her eyes, Clara smirked. "That's an exaggeration. There is nothing wrong with spending some of the morning in bed. It helps you feel well rested. What do you do? Get up at the crack of dawn and go to bed at half seven?"

Alex let his lip quirk. "I thought we established that I don't sleep?" he asked and Clara did laugh then. It was a genuine noise that Alex had not heard come from her lips before. He didn't know this woman deeply, but here he was, sharing his deepest secrets with her.

"We did," she said, dragging him from his thoughts. "Anyway, it's funny, really. When you used to do press conferences…me and Theresa would sometimes catch the end of one and we always used to laugh."

"At me?"

"Well," Clara said, pouring some more sugar into her coffee and Alex furrowed his brows. "We used to laugh at your manner. You used to be so aggressive with the journalists. I know when I was a journalist I was on the features desk and not the crime desk, but they used to hate you there too."

"Good to know I'm hated universally," Alex said, a somewhat sarcastic tone to his voice.

"I don't hate you," Clara shrugged. "Sure, you're unusually obnoxious and smug about being the smartest person in the room, but you're not all that bad."

Alex felt himself blink profusely before folding his arms over his chest, looking more entertained than annoyed, letting Clara relax at the sight of him. Arching a brow in his direction, she waited for him to speak, but he seemed to be lost in his own world, his thoughts taking him somewhere.

"There's nothing wrong with being the smartest person in the room," he said and Clara snorted, covering her mouth after the noise escaped her and Alex could feel himself smile despite everything.

"You're not modest, either," she informed him. "And for your information, I'm the one with the doctorate so…" she held her hands up in defence and Alex watched the glimmer in her eye.

"You might have a doctorate," Alex informed her, "but you put too much sugar in your coffee. Do you bleed white and not red?"

"Very funny," Clara said. "There's nothing wrong with a lump of sugar."

"No," he agreed, "but there is with five lumps."

Clara let herself frown, pretending to glower to him before she laughed and Alex chuckled, not allowing himself a hearty laugh as he shook his head and she watched him peer down to his lap, wondering if, for once, she had done something right by helping the agent sat opposite her.

…

Clara spent the following night alone, sat in the garden as the sun slowly set, but its heat moved over her body. She had taken to staying in the garden for a while now, knowing full well that her house had been bugged. She knew there was no chance of them letting her get away without being watched. She had spent the previous night speaking to Alex again, meeting him in the diner once more. He had told her that he thought he was close to cracking Scofield, plus he had an idea that he would be meeting someone close to him.

She had tried to pry answers from him, but she had gotten nothing. Instead he had told her it was confidential and she accused him of being boring and mean. He had rolled his eyes, but the smile had not once left his face. Clara couldn't pretend that she didn't notice him taking the pills. She had told him that she could help him get off of them, but he had insisted that there was nothing wrong with him. He didn't fool her, but she didn't push him. She would just find another way to help.

Startling, Clara heard the creaking of her gate, jumping slightly as she wondered who it was. Looking to the gate, she felt herself grow weary. The man who entered looked around before his eyes settled on hers. There was something about him that looked suspicious, especially the way he tilted his head towards her and held a briefcase in his fingertips.

"Miss Reynolds?" he asked of her and she stood up from her bench, holding her wine glass as she observed his face. She saw him gulp once and then the sweat fell down his brow before she knew exactly who it was.

"Get out before I call the police," she demanded from him, but he shook his head.

"We both know it isn't the police who want me."

Clara remained stood where she was as the man moved closer. His hair was neatly cropped close to his head, the suit he wore was expensive, but slightly too big for him. He had piercing eyes and his face was typically handsome. He wasn't all angles and bones like Mahone. He was watching her as she determined what to do.

"I am not here to hurt you," he spoke, holding a hand out to try and calm her. "I just want to talk about someone we both know…if we can go inside?"

"No," Clara answered, knowing that she should run and scream for the police, but there was something about his tone. There was something so calming about it that she didn't bother moving. Instead she kept her eyes set on him. "I'm being watched…I think, anyway…I don't know, but outside is the only place I know they can't watch."

Motioning to the bench, he looked in her direction and saw the trees covering it, knowing that she had a point. He nodded and began to move towards the bench, sitting on the edge of it and Clara did the same, keeping her distance as she placed her glass on the floor.

"I guess there's no need for introductions," he said and Clara shrugged.

"I know who you are, Michael Scofield," she said. "Although what you are doing here is a mystery. If you wanted information on Alex then you've come to the wrong place. He has an ex wife in Colorado who might be more helpful."

"Oh, she was," Michael informed her, nodding his head at her as she kept her gaze on him, not once letting her eyes leave his as he kept his hands on his kneecaps. "She told me everything. She told me how he started acting odd at the very same time Oscar Shales seemed to evade her husband and the trail on him went cold. She told me about you…the sister of Shales's victim-"

"-Then she should tell you that I know nothing," Clara said and Michael arched a brow, looking at her with a similar stare that Alex had. It was the smug 'we both know the truth' stare.

"He buried him in his back yard," Michael said and Clara shook her head. "I get it. It all makes sense. Shales seemed to disappear…Alex had a breakdown…and it isn't difficult to see your fiancé has left you. Alex's wife said you had been engaged and yet there is no sign of a husband."

"This doesn't prove anything," Clara said, standing up and motioning to her gate. "I want you to go or I will call the police."

"Sit down," Michael urged her, his voice calm and controlled, yet there was a tone to it that she didn't want to disobey. "His wife told me how he dug the back yard up without a second thought after spending so much time working on it. I saw the soil…very clever…helping the body to decompose. He knew his stuff-"

"-He did nothing wrong," Clara interrupted, unable to take anymore of the conversation as she sat back on the bench and glowered at Michael, leaning forwards to press her hand to her chest. "I was the one who went after Shales."

"I know," Michael said. "That foolish interview you did to lure him out worked."

"Alex found me with him," Clara said. "He had been following me three weeks after that interview. He…the feeling of knowing he was there but not seeing him…you have no idea how that felt. I wanted to kill him. So I went out…where Theresa lived…near Colorado. He had murdered her in her own home and I wanted to extend the same courtesy."

Michael listened as she spoke and he knew full well that she was not Alex. The woman sat next to him was no killer. She was no one to worry about. She was innocent in all of this and he knew that.

"He raped and murdered my little sister," Clara said in a small voice. "The things he did to her…I wanted him dead…and he knew that, but he cornered me…he was too strong."

Michael remained mute as Clara let her eyes close.

"If Alex didn't show up…if he hadn't been tailing me…then I don't want to think about what would have happened."

"So if Alex showed up then why didn't he have backup?" Michael asked and Clara shrugged.

"No idea," she said. "I don't care. All I know is that he got Shales off me and I found my gun in my bag. I was going to shoot him and all he could do was kneel there and taunt me…tell me how I was too weak to pull the trigger…and I wanted to. I wanted to do it for Theresa. I wanted revenge."

She inhaled a sharp breath. "But I couldn't," she said. "And Alex knew that…but…"

"He shot him," Michael ended and Clara shrugged, watching Michael with narrowed eyes, her breathing uneven as Michael stood up, hands on his hips as Clara stood then.

"What we did might have been wrong," Clara said. "But it felt right."

"And now he's killing off convicts?" Michael asked of her. "He's not the good guy in all of this. He's a cold-blooded killer. I've seen the news and I know that now. He won't listen to us…all of this is a set-up…my brother did nothing."

"You have no idea," Clara shook her head, eyes wide. "He doesn't want to do this. He doesn't want to hurt them…kill them…he's-"

Clara had no option to finish as she heard her landline phone begin to ring. Michael looked at her evenly and she wondered what he was going to say to her as he dared to move his hand to take hold of her shoulder.

"Stay away from him," he urged her. "He's not a good man."

"You don't understand," Clara said, but before she could say anything he had turned on his heel and was rushing towards her gate as her phone stopped ringing and she cursed lowly.

Moving into her house, she saw Michael climb into a car and drive off before she had a chance to stop him. She wandered through her living room, searching for her cell that she had thrown down onto her chair. She picked it up and flipped it open, searching for Alex's number. She found it and called it, pressing the cell to her ear, but it went straight to voicemail.

"Jesus Christ, Alex, what's the point in having a phone if you don't answer it?" she snapped into the voicemail.

The next time she tried to call there was no ringing whatsoever. He was either somewhere with no signal or speaking to someone. Clara waited another few minutes before trying again. It rang, but he didn't answer. Groaning lowly, she knew she had to tell him what had just happened. She did the next best thing. She called the headquarters.

"Agent Wheeler," a man answered. "Do you have any information regarding the Fox River Eight?"

She had called the hotline number, unsure of what more she could do. "Oh, hi, look, I'm a friend of Agent Mahone's and I can't get hold of him."

"Agent Mahone is on his way to the airport," he informed her. "Do you have any-"

She hung up before he could ask her anything more and she tried calling Mahone again. She tried to do the math in her head as she grabbed her satchel and car keys from the bowl on the coffee table. Moving out the door, she locked her house and climbed into her car and drove, knowing full well that she was breaking every speed limit set.

…

Alex pulled his sunglasses from his face, his lips pursed and his eyes narrowed. He had spoken with Scofield after the man had stolen his wife's phone. He had told him that he knew everything. He had taunted him, telling him that he would always be one step behind. Mahone could feel the anger inside of him boil over as he looked to the screen, the flight to New Mexico apparently still on time.

Moving towards check in, he had hardly expected to see the sight running towards him. She had red tinted cheeks, her hair flailing around her shoulders as her satchel bounced on her hip and she stood before him, panting for breath. Moving quickly, she let her hand hit his arm as he remained confused.

"Next time answer your phone, arsehole," she complained to him and Alex took her by the wrist, dragging her into a more secluded corner before he stood a few inches from her, looking at her with wonder.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded from her.

"He came to my house," she said.

"I know," Mahone mumbled.

Frowning, her face turned to confusion. "How do you know?"

"He phoned me to tell me. He knows everything about what we did, apparently."

"I tried to tell him that you had no option," Clara said and Mahone shook his head.

"It's better that he doesn't know any of that," he informed her in a low drawl as she continued to look at him with confusion, causing him to explain. "If he knows then it changes nothing. I still have to kill him. The fewer people who know, the better it is. You know that, Clara."

Nodding, she agreed with a lacklustre shrug. Alex then continued with his questioning.

"So what are you doing here?" he asked of her.

"I called the office and they said you were on your way to the airport. I figured I could beat you here by ten minutes," she told him. "And I had to tell you that he knew, but he could have saved me the hassle and told me he was going to give you a call."

Alex let himself soften at hearing her. "I'm heading to New Mexico," he said. "I think he is meeting with the doctor who helped him escape."

"Right," Clara said. "So it's just you going?"

"I thought that would be best," Alex mumbled. "No one else needs to know what I have to do."

"Then I'll come with you," Clara said with a nod and Alex shook his head.

"Absolutely not," he told her and she rolled her eyes.

"He came to my house," Clara said in a low hiss. "Okay? He was at my house and…and I think he knows something. He…I don't know…he said something about all of this being a set-up and I think he might know about these people threatening us."

"What are you on about?" Alex asked.

"Look, I know what I'm on about," she complained to him, rolling her eyes at his tone. "I think there is something deeper to all of this and I want to come along and find out what is going on."

"And if they get wind of you tagging along?" Alex asked.

"What?" Clara asked. "I'm not going against them. I'm just coming…for the scenery…whatever…it is none of their business. I'm doing what they want and keeping away from the police."

"And if there is a big conspiracy theory?" Alex wondered. "They won't want you uncovering it…Clara…come on…just think about this."

"I am," Clara said, her hands balling into fists by her side. "And too many people have ruined my life up until now and I'm fed up of it. I want answers and I'm coming with you to get them, whether you like it or not."

Alex watched her storm up to a travel agent desk and he remained mute, in awe of her for a few moments before he wondered if what she was saying had any sense to it.

…

A/N: Do let me know what you think!