Clara refused to let Alex drive the following morning when they touched back down in Chicago. It was still dark outside and Alex had called Agent Lang, leaving her a message to tell her that he wouldn't be at work that day. He suspected that they could cope a day without him, but he had told them to call him if something urgent came up.
Driving through the quiet streets of Chicago, Clara took a slight detour, picking up Alex's prescription as the FBI agent slept in her car, unable to keep his eyes open. Clara would have chuckled if she wasn't scared of waking him. They had gone to his house prior to that, letting him grab everything he would need. He contemplated staying at home, wondering why he should waste money on a hotel room, but then he saw the bird bath in the middle of his garden and changed his mind instantly.
Clara groaned as she saw the queue at the twenty-four hour pharmacy. She would often peer over her shoulder, looking back to the car where Alex slept. He seemed rather peaceful and a part of Clara wondered if she should check he was still breathing. The man had just been shot and he was already stronger than others. She hadn't asked him what he had done to that blond agent. She didn't want to know. All she knew was that he had disposed of him somehow.
Clearly he had been right. He didn't have any reservations about killing. It made her wonder why killing Shales had affected him so much. If he didn't care about killing the man then why was he swallowing those pills like there was no tomorrow? She knew that Shales had begged for his life once Alex had trained his gun on him. But Clara didn't see any mercy on Alex's face.
It almost made her laugh. She was aiding a killer. She was looking after a man who had killed before and, no doubt, would do so in the future. Then again, who was she to judge? She had every intention of murdering Shales. She wanted to do it, but she couldn't. Shaking her head, she tried to convince herself that it didn't matter. Alex had chosen his family over everything. She would do the same if she had been with Tom, blissfully unaware of just how toxic their relationship was.
Once she pulled into the hotel, Clara climbed out of her car and the sound of a door opening was enough to wake Alex. He startled for a second, grunting in confusion before rubbing his eyes and running a hand down his neck, feeling how stiff he was from his awkward position sleeping against the window of her car.
Clara waited for him before going into her bag and walking to the reception with him. "I kept the room key before I flew out," she said to him. "I never checked out so everything should be as it was."
"Right," Alex muttered.
"I mean, I can find another room," Clara said to him. "Just let me go and find someone at reception."
"No," Alex said with a shake of his head. "Don't bother wasting money. There's a reasonable sized sofa in that room. Anyway, I don't think…well…leaving me in a room…chances are I could probably be ill."
"Yeah, well, that's why you don't discharge yourself from hospital when you've been shot," Clara said, looking to the side at him as he let a small smile fall on his lips and he came to the elevator, watching as Clara pressed the button to summon it.
"I'll be fine," Alex responded. "Just need to rest for a while."
"No kidding," Clara said.
Alex had been sweating for a while, but the droplets of water were now pouring down his forehead and down his cheek, the shirt he wore wet as Clara swore she had never seen someone look as bad as he did at that moment. He stepped into the elevator besides her, his hands going to his hair and tugging through it. Clara kept her eye on him as they went up to the third floor and she opened the door to the room.
They both entered in silence, Alex going about walking into the bathroom with the holdall he had. He shut the door and began to pull his suit from his body, not bothering to fold his clothes neatly. Instead he kicked them into a pile in the corner of the room, hands going to the taps of the sink and running the cold water. He splashed it over his face before feeling the bandage on his shoulder where the bullet had hit him.
"Christ," he grunted at the sight of it, his fingers running over the bandage that sat underneath his plain white top.
He didn't mess with it, not wanting to irritate it as he felt a slight stinging pain. Finishing off changing, he walked out of the bathroom in time to see Clara begin to peel off the shirt she wore. She startled for a second as Alex diverted his eyes.
"I didn't think you'd be that quick," she told him, pulling the loose shirt tighter together on her form as he shrugged in response.
"Do you have my prescription?" he asked of her, changing the topic. "My shoulder is giving me a bit of grief."
"Yeah," Clara nodded and moved towards her satchel that she had dumped on the desk next to the window. She pulled it open and found the bag of pills before handing it to him.
"Thanks," Alex said.
"No worries," she said. "Listen, just sleep in the bed. I'm…I'm fine on the sofa."
"No-"
"-Can you just do as your told?" Clara snapped, her voice stern and the look on her face enough to tell him that he shouldn't test her. He should know that look. He had the same expression on his features often. "You've been shot, Alex. How many times do you need to be reminded of that? Really, I should drag your arse back to a hospital."
Alex challenged her then as he saw her continue to hold her shirt together. "If I go into hospital then you're in the bed next to mine," he informed her. "Don't pretend your fine either. I've seen the way you can hardly lean back against anything. You've been sat up straight the entire journey home…too scared to put weight against your back."
She couldn't deny that then. Instead she shrugged her shoulders and began to move towards the bathroom. Alex let her go, hearing the door close and lock. He sat on the side of the bed, pulling a water bottle out of the mini fridge as he went. He swallowed the pills, longing for them to get to work as soon as possible.
Clara stayed in the bathroom for a while, brushing her teeth and then showering. She looked in the mirror over the sink once she was done. Her back to it as she turned her head over her shoulder to look into the glass, inhaling a deep breath as she looked to the scars and then reached behind her for the antiseptic cream.
She winced as her fingers moved against the raised skin and she wondered how long it would be until the redness went away and she was left with a white scar. She had one on her knee from where she had fallen as a kid, but that was nothing compared to the marks on her back and legs.
Moving towards the nightshirt she had hung up on the back of the door, she shrugged into it and then downed her final painkillers before leaving the bathroom and shutting the light off. Alex was still perched on the side of the bed, hands between his legs as he bent forwards slightly.
"Are you going to be ill?" Clara asked of him, carrying her clothes and dropping them into the bottom of the wardrobe.
"Maybe," Alex muttered.
"You've been in the air and driving for a while," she said. "It would make sense for you to feel nauseous."
"Yeah," Alex mumbled and Clara tugged the trashcan from the corner of the room, depositing it by his bedside before going to sit on the edge of the sofa in the corner of the room.
"You maybe shouldn't lay down until the feeling has gone," Clara said. "It's best just to sit up and wait for it to pass…or until you empty your guts."
"With a bedside manner like that it's a good job you never went into the healthcare profession," he grunted and Clara couldn't help but let her lips rise despite herself. She could feel Alex watching her as she remained seated on the edge of the sofa.
"Theresa would sometimes come to the house," Clara said, looking down into her lap as she spoke. "She would…well…be completely out of it…weed, usually. Tom used to tell me that if I kept taking her in then she wouldn't learn her lesson. He used to say that she was twenty one and able to stand on her own two feet."
"But she's your sister," Alex declared.
"Exactly," Clara said. "I think mom and dad dying…I mean…she was just twenty and still so young. It took its toll on her."
She remained silent for a second, Alex knowing all about how her parents had died in a car accident. There were eleven years between Clara and Theresa, the younger sister having been the product of many attempts by her parents to have another child.
"Everyone copes with things differently," Alex said to her and she shrugged.
"I guess," she agreed with him. "I just wanted to keep her locked up whenever she came round, completely wasted. She was my little sister and I just wanted to help take the pain away from her."
"And what about you?" Alex asked and Clara looked up, brow furrowing as she heard him speak to her. Alex continued, still slightly pale as his he remained bent forwards. "In my experience…there's always one person in a family who has to be there for everyone else while no one is there for them."
Clara didn't say anything, merely offered him a shrug of her shoulders before daring to stand up and move around the room, hands on her hips as Alex couldn't stop his gaze from the cuts that sat there.
"Yeah," Clara spoke. "I mean, I had Tom, but he never…he never got it. He never understood how I felt responsible for Theresa. He never got that."
"Some people don't," Alex spoke.
"Yeah, well," Clara shrugged, "that's all in the past, isn't it? Anyway, you should get some sleep if you feel less sick."
"A bit," Alex muttered.
"Okay," she responded, picking up a pillow from the bed and moving it over to the sofa and depositing it just underneath the arm. Moving to the wardrobe, she found a thin blanket on the top shelf.
She reached for it, her back protesting as she grabbed hold of it and held it to her stomach, her head bent as she gasped for breath, the feeling of pain flowing through her.
"How bad are they?" Alex asked of her, noting the motion as she draped the blanket over the back of the sofa. "And don't just say fine, Clara."
"They hurt like hell when I'm not dosed up on painkillers," Clara finally said and Alex was shocked that he got a straight answer out of her. She moved to rest on her front, pulling the blanket down and over her body.
She pressed her cheek into the pillow as Alex moved to rest back on the bed. He pulled the duvet up and over his body, despite the fact that he was boiling hot. He wanted to sleep, but a part of him still felt slightly ill. He closed his eyes as he heard Clara's breathing shallow out, indicating she was sleeping. Alex wasn't shocked. She might struggle to sleep, but there would be no doubt that she was exhausted. He was feeling pretty much the same way.
…
Sitting up, Clara panted for breath as the sun streamed into the room. She pushed her legs over the side of the sofa, the blanket draped over her lap. She buried her head into her hands as she leant forwards, her fingertips pushing through her hair.
She stood up quickly, her feet pushing her towards the window as she peered outside and looked around, making sure that there was no one else watching the room. She had to admit that she had grown paranoid, despite the fact that Alex had killed the man who had tortured her. She just knew that there were always others watching.
Alex was still sleeping soundly on the bed, resting on his back. He had his mouth slightly open, breaths escaping him slowly. His arms were resting by his side and his hair even messier than usual. Clara had watched him for a few moments before going to sit back on the sofa, her hands lacing together as she began to sweat nervously.
It was only after a few moments when she heard a cell begin to ring. She made a move for her satchel, but then she realised that the call wasn't coming from her bag. Instead she heard it from the pocket of Alex's jacket. Cursing lowly, Clara pulled the cell from the material.
"Agent Mahone's…well…cell," Clara spoke, her voice low as she tried not to wake Alex.
"This is Agent Lang," the voice on the other sound spoke. "Who is this? Where is Agent Mahone?"
"Sleeping," Clara answered. "He's fine…just…tired…"
"And you are?" Agent Lang wondered and Clara realised how suspicious it sounded as she racked her brain.
"A friend," she simply said. "Clara Reynolds…just let me see if I can wake him."
She pressed the phone against her shoulder before moving to Alex's side. Reaching down, she pressed a hand against his shoulder, shaking him slowly. He didn't startle, but he did groan as his eyes opened and he let them flicker around. Clara retracted her hand as she spoke.
"Sorry," she said. "It's Agent Lang…she said she needs to talk to you."
"Yeah…got it," Alex spoke, taking the phone from her fingertips.
"Lang, yeah I'm fine," Alex spoke as Clara went to her bag to find a new outfit for the day. "I'm in a hotel not far from headquarters. I can be there in…give me half an hour…yeah, I'll be good…she…yeah, I'll explain when I come in."
Alex hung up and then moved, each movement tentative as Clara found out a new pair of trousers and a shirt.
"I need to go," Alex said, standing up and grabbing his bag. "Apparently we might have a lead."
"Do you want me to drive you?" Clara wondered.
"I'll get a cab," he informed her. "You stay here and I'll be back tonight."
"Are you sure you're going to be okay to go in?"
Alex chuckled. "I don't have much of a choice."
…
Alex could feel Wheeler watching him with suspicion as soon as the tape had aired. He had to be honest, as soon as he had seen the news, he was feeing the nerves inside of him begin to make themselves known. He wanted to reach for his medication, but he couldn't. He couldn't take his pills and look guilty in front of the agents who stood with him in the field office.
Burrows and Scofield had gone on the news, recording a video to be displayed to the entire nation, declaring how they were innocent and being framed for everything. They said how the vice president's brother was still alive. They spoke of how the vice president had been involved in the cover up. They discussed how there was a higher authority than the government.
And then they had brought Alex into the equation. They had said how he was killing off the convicts. They even said that he would be making it look like an accident. But then they had done it. They had brought in Shales.
They had mentioned how he had killed him. They had said how he had covered it up. Alex had listened with intensity before he heard his cell begin to ring. He knew who it would be without even looking at the ID. He said nothing, instead muttering;
"They're crazy."
He took his call outside, pressing his cell to his ear as he felt people watching him.
"What are they doing?" her voice was high and hysterical as Alex walked into his own office.
"Calm down, Clara."
"Calm down?" she demanded from him. "How the hell can I calm down? He's gone on national TV and said what we did."
"But he didn't bring you into it," Alex informed her. "Why is that, Clara? I don't understand it…"
"You don't need to understand it," Clara said, "because I don't understand it. I want to know what is happening…what will happen…"
"Nothing," Alex promised her. "They're going to bury this story and by the time you're eating dinner tonight it will be of no importance."
"You sure about that?" she asked and he chuckled.
"It better be," he declared. "It better be."
He kept on talking with Clara, pacing his office as he tried to calm her down. He was being watched by people in the office, knowing that people were suspicious. He said nothing, however, choosing to keep silent as the majority of agents went about trying to decode the tape. But Agent Wheeler and Agent Lang had other ideas.
Lang was sat at her desk, looking over a file as Wheeler went to his desk next to hers, hands moving to wrap around the chair he sat in as he looked to Lang, brows furrowing together.
"Who did you say he was with this morning?" Wheeler spoke, remembering standing by Lang when she had called Alex and told him to get into work.
"A woman…I don't know," Lang shrugged. "It's none of our business what Alex gets up to in his spare time."
"No," Wheeler said, "but did you say her name was Clara?"
"Yeah, why?" Lang wondered from him.
"Was her last name Reynolds?" Wheeler continued and Lang let her brow furrow as he shrugged at her and she slowly pieced two and two together as Wheeler pulled out his cell and searched for Internal Affairs number.
"You can't think he has anything to do with this…or her…maybe they're just friends?"
"I doubt it," Wheeler said, his voice low so that no one could hear them conversing. "Alex doesn't do friends, does he? You know that as well as I do. Why would he be friends with her?"
"So what are you going to do?"
"What I should have done a while ago," he responded and placed his cell to his ear as he called the number.
…
Alex had been out of the office all day. He had gone to see Brad Bellick at Fox River who had helped him to confirm that the tape hadn't been about proving the brother's innocence at all. It had been about luring out Sara Tancredi. Michael had used words, or more specifically, chapters, from the book that each recovering addict was advised to read. Mahone didn't know if he would have gotten that information if he hadn't been to see Bellick.
He had promised the man a favour, but when he called the new warden of Fox River to ask for that favour he had been stumped. He didn't mind, as a matter of fact. Instead he was quite unperturbed. What happened to Bellick was none of his business.
He had then gone to see the cameraman who the brothers and Kellerman had taken hostage to record the video. He informed him of how the brothers had spoken about it taking six hours to travel a certain number of miles. Mahone had climbed back into the rental car from the bureau, driving back to base.
But he didn't expect a familiar sight once he entered the office. He didn't know if it was her, but as he approached he knew it was. She had her dark hair hanging loosely down her back, a cup of water in her fingertips as she remained silent and sat across from Agent Wheeler. It was nearly ten in the evening and Mahone was grateful the office was nearly empty except for Lang and Wheeler.
"What the hell is this?" Alex demanded and Wheeler shrugged his shoulders.
"We're just doing checks," Wheeler spoke.
"Yeah, on what?" Alex demanded as Clara remained in the wooden chair, holding onto the plastic cup of water before she sipped it, keeping it to her lips as she heard the anger in Alex's voice continue to rise.
"We know that Scofield and Burrows were lying," Wheeler said, but he didn't sound entirely convinced. "But then Lang took a call this morning."
"I told them they are being ridiculous," Clara finally spoke up, peering up to Alex as they both exchanged anxious stares. "I said that I didn't know what Burrows and Scofield were going on about."
"No one knows," Alex said, hands on his hips as that hysterical look came over his face. It was a mixture between anger and disillusionment. "No one knows because they're escaped criminals!" Alex was now pointing to the TV screen on the wall where the tape was being played continuously.
Lang folded her arms over her chest as Alex paced up and down the room. "So what is this, Wheeler? You get one whiff of a chance to suck up to Sullins and bring me down and you couldn't wait to give it a shot?"
"No one is doing that," Lang declared and Alex suddenly let his frustration get the better of him as he kicked a wastebasket off to the side.
Wheeler stood up then, looking to Alex. "You need to calm down."
"And you need to back out of my business," Alex retorted, getting closer to Wheeler before prodding him in the chest. "What I do, or who I am with, in my spare time is none of your business."
"It's suspicious," Wheeler held his hands up as Clara shook her head. "The woman who tried to lure out Shales just happens to answer your phone this morning…Internal Affairs just wanted me to question her and make sure there was no truth to the allegations."
"And what did she say?" Alex demanded.
"Nothing," Wheeler said. "She's been here half an hour after staying in a hotel under your name and she won't say anything, which isn't making much sense."
"So you drag her here in the middle of the night?" Alex demanded, pointing to her. "What did you want, Wheeler? You wanted her to admit that I did it? That we're involved in some conspiracy together?"
"So why else was she in a hotel under your name?"
"Why do you think?" Clara demanded, seeing no other escape from this as she moved to her feet, leaving her cup of water on the desk as everyone turned to look to her. "I mean…I thought you FBI agents were supposed to be clever?"
Wheeler turned to her, a brow arched as Clara rolled her eyes. "Do I need to spell it out?" she enquired.
But then everyone slowly began to piece two and two together. Lang had the decency to start to walk away, not needing to hear anymore as Wheeler shook his head, almost as though he didn't know what to say. Clara shook her head, pretending to be angry as she looked the man in the eye and Alex let his eyes flicker around.
"Now, can I go?" she demanded from him. "Or do you need something else from me?"
"But you're a victim's sister," he stuttered.
"Yeah," Clara said, "so why do you think I didn't want to say anything when you hauled me in here? Besides, it only started after the case went cold. I think two adults are allowed to do what they want."
Alex resisted the urge to say anything, but he had to admit that Clara was clever. She was clever and rather manipulative. She was already causing Wheeler to look like a scolded schoolboy instead of an authoritative FBI agent. Alex was doing his best not to smile at the sight he was witnessing as Clara rolled her eyes.
"So, can I go?" she asked again.
"I guess so," Wheeler mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.
Clara shrugged into her mac and held her satchel by the small handle, carrying it by her side as Alex said he would walk her out. He followed her out of the building until they came to her car and she took a deep breath, turning to look to Alex.
"Christ," she complained. "Do you think he bought it?"
"Yeah," Alex said, unable to stop a smirk on his face. "I have to say, I usually love dragging Wheeler down, but you did a good job."
"I also lied to him," Clara said.
"How does he know if it is a lie?" Alex asked of her. "As far as anyone might know, we have been seeing each other in secret."
"Good job no one really knows us then," Clara scoffed, unlocking her car.
"Good job," Alex echoed. "That should keep Wheeler off of your back, but I don't think it will keep Sullins or Internal Affairs off of mine."
"Anything I can do?" she asked and Alex shook his head, pulling the door to her car open for her, holding it wide as he watched her climb into the vehicle. He let his arm dangle over the top of the door as he spoke.
"I think you've done enough," he promised her. "I should be back later tonight…to pick my stuff up from the hotel and then I'll go back home."
"No problem," she told him. "Listen, Alex…" she trailed off, biting down on her lip as she contemplated what she was going to say. But she didn't know. She didn't know what she was thinking as she chewed down on her bottom lip. She just felt as though she wanted to say something to him. Instead she shook her head. "Nothing," she said. "I'll see you later."
Nodding, Alex shut the car door and went back inside, unable to stop himself chuckling as he thought of the look on Wheeler's face.