Alex knew that he was slowly losing the plot. He had been locked away in the basement of his house. It had always acted as a study for him. It had been somewhere he could go and lock himself away. He would bury himself in his work while Pam and Cameron would be upstairs, obliviously unaware of the horrors he witnessed. That was where he was when Agent Lang found him.

"Alex," she spoke his name, seeing him peering at the wall.

Her eyes widened as she looked to the sight before her. The entire wall was filled to the brim with photos of Michael Scofield's tattoos and random scribbling on notes. She didn't know what to say and so she let her mouth hang open, her eyes scrunching up as she saw Alex. He was dressed in a black jumper and jeans; sweat trickling down his forehead. His hands were alternating between pushing his glasses onto his nose and running through his hair.

"Lang," he said in a grunt.

"What is this?" Lang asked, her voice hesitant as she stepped further into the room.

Pulling photos from the wall, he thrust them into her fingertips and began explaining what he was showing her.

"These are the photos we recovered from Scofield's hardrive," he explained to her, pointing down to the sketches. "See here…these tattoos aren't actually on his body. I think he had this planned and this is the final part to his plan. Look…we thought this was Allen Schewitzer."

Lang tried to keep up with him as he spoke with haste.

"It was the first tattoo…but look at this little symbol here. It's alpha. How's your Greek alphabet, Lang?"

"Rusty," she said, her tone dry as she spoke and Mahone let himself chuckle at hearing her as he handed her another photo of the sketch and she looked to it, noticing the small symbol as she arched a brow at him. "Beta?"

"Beta," he nodded. "And then the final one…Omega."

"What is it?" Lang wondered as he handed her another photo.

"No idea," Alex shrugged. "It's just a photo of Jesus Christ in a rose."

"And the number underneath it?"

"617," Alex read out. "It's the date…the 17th June."

"That's…in what…two days?"

"Less," Alex responded, looking Lang in the eye as she watched him back with intrigue, her eyes taking in his appearance and she did her best to bite her tongue. She knew that saying something to him might set him off. She had seen people deal with his temper in the office when they had said something wrong.

"So what now?"

"We find out what it means," Alex said to her. "Take this to the office and get started. Try to figure out what the sketch means and I will be in soon. I need to shower and change. Tell Wheeler that-"

"-You don't know, do you?" Lang interrupted at the mention of Wheeler.

Alex let his brows furrow as he listened to Lang. He had always had a mutual respect for the woman. She was a good agent, dedicated to doing her job and making sure everything was safe. She remained mute for a second, peering over to the wall again and avoiding Alex's gaze. It took a moment before she spoke, chewing down on her lip as she weighed her words.

"Wheeler has been going off and out of the office for the past week," Lang said. "He will come and go, but I saw something on his desk the other day. He's…he's digging."

"Yeah," Alex scoffed, hands going to the back of his head as he turned to look back at the wall. "Tell me something I don't know."

"No," Lang said with a shake of her head. "He's looking into her…your…well…whatever she is."

Alex's brow furrowed then as he turned his head over his shoulder to look at Lang. The woman sighed, hands moving to her hips as she held them in her grip tightly. She shrugged her shoulders at him as Alex realised who she was talking about. He shook his head with haste.

"Why is he so obsessed with her?" Alex demanded.

"Because he thinks she is harbouring some dark secrets of yours," Lang responded. "He thinks that if he can crack her then he can get to you. Listen, Alex, I don't know what is going on. I don't know what he is looking into really…and I don't want to know. All I know is that I saw him with a file on her on his desk. He…she bought a gun a month before Shales disappeared off your radar."

Alex kept his gaze on the wall, closing his eyes as Lang watched him, clearly trying to weigh him up herself. He hoped she was failing miserably as he felt himself begin to sweat even more. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. Did he tell her? If he told her then he incriminated himself. He knew that.

"He thinks that I'm involved," Alex said, his mouth dry. "He thinks that if she bought the gun…then I'm involved."

"I don't know," Lang said again. "I don't know what he thinks, Alex, but you were in charge of the case. We're not saying you know anything about what Clara Reynolds did to Shales…but…you've got to admit that it looks suspicious. You end up with her after everything that happened?"

Alex was about to say that hadn't been what had happened, but he couldn't say it. He kept quiet instead, knowing that silence was best on the matter. All he could do was swallow and hope that Lang wasn't working him out. He had promised Clara that Wheeler wouldn't get anything on her. But he was digging. He was digging and if he had found out that Clara had bought a gun then he would trace her movements.

It would only be a matter of time before he found her. When he found her then he found Alex. Alex would tell the truth. Clara would tell the truth. Both of them would be pleased to do that, he suspected. Then again, Alex worried what The Company might do if Wheeler got to the truth before he finished his job for them. Would Pam and Cameron be safe? Alex didn't know what do. If he told Clara to flee then she would look guilty.

But if she stayed then she could face a prison sentence. It was her choice. Alex knew that.

"Alex, if there is anything you need to talk about then you know I'm here," Lang said, taking one step towards him, her hand outstretched before she let it rest on top of his arm. He nodded at her.

"I'm fine," he told her, sniffing loudly. "Let Wheeler do what he needs to do. He'll find nothing."

Lang dropped her hand from him, watching as he turned on his heel and began to leave his basement. She suspected he wasn't entirely telling her the truth that she wanted to hear.

…

Meeting Alex in the diner around the corner from headquarters was not what Clara had planned that evening. She had finished work and gone about tidying up her office, handing in the paperwork to the office administrator before they left. She had done her best to forget about Alex and Wheeler, but that was easier said than done.

Clara walked in, dressed in a short black dress with thick black tights. Her hair was scraped off her face, tied in a loose ponytail as the waves fell down her back. She looked around for a second before seeing him sat in the corner. Moving towards him, she offered him a solemn nod before settling down on the seat opposite, her hands going to the coffee he had ordered her.

"What is it?" Clara wondered, not bothering with pleasantries. They were both beyond that stage now. Her brow arched as Alex coughed once.

It was then when she saw he had a suitcase with him, sat at the side. He was dressed in a plain black top, khaki-coloured trousers on his legs and a dark thin coat on his shoulders. It was a different look compared to his usual suits. She furrowed her brow at seeing him before he looked her in the eye.

"Wheeler knows," he said in a low voice, but she shook her head.

"You said he wouldn't find out," she hissed at him, leaning forwards as Alex shrugged.

"He's doing his job," he said. "I envy him. He's ambitious…but…but he's doing the right thing. If I were him then I would be doing the same, Clara. I know that…but…but he knows about Abruzzi…Apolskis…he…he knows about Shales. They're doing a test on the soil in my back yard. They have footage to place us together in a car on the drive back from your sister's house. They're going to find out."

Clara took a deep breath, bowing her head as she looked down to the table. Alex moved his hand over the table, taking one of her hands from the coffee cup she was holding. His fingers engulfed hers as he heard her sniff loudly. For all of her talk of handing herself in, he knew that she would be like this when push came to shove. The idea of being locked up was enough to make anyone want to weep.

"So what do we do?" Clara pulled herself together, looking back over to Alex.

"The Company want me to finish the job," Alex informed her. "They want me to go to Panama and find Theodore Bagwell. I don't know why and I didn't bother to ask them why, but I'm heading out tonight. I have a flight booked."

"So…so you're leaving?" Clara wondered, her brows knitting together as Alex wondered if he was doing the right thing.

"I am," he told her, "and you're coming with me."

She blinked then as Alex moved to sit next to her on the bench so that no one could overhear them. Moving his arm over the back of the seat, he looked around as he spoke, voice low and controlled as Clara angled her upper body to face him.

"The Company want you in Panama," he told her. "They think that you're a liability here."

"Why?" Clara asked and Alex shrugged.

"I don't know," he admitted to her. "There's someone higher up than me who seems to be all for protecting you and I don't know why, Clara. Do you know anyone who would want to do that?"

Scoffing, Clara shook her head. "No," she said. "I don't have any family, except for my uncle who I see once a year. He works in some technology company…and then there's Tom. He's an architect, for goodness sake."

Nodding, Alex seemed to accept what she was saying, but she wasn't accepting what he was telling her. She seemed to go into a trance, her brows rising on her forehead. She was doing her best to think of anyone in her family who could be part of this mysterious Company, but no one came to mind. All she could do was shake her head at Alex.

"No," she said. "There is no one."

"There has to be," Alex said. "Why else would it make sense for them to protect you?"

"Protect me?" Clara echoed his words back to him. "If there is someone in this ridiculous conspiracy theory then they haven't protected me very well, have they? I mean…look at me…they've threatened Tom…tortured me…"

"But they haven't killed you," Alex said, his voice low as Clara scoffed.

"I'd guess that was the next step," she informed him, "but I'm not running anymore, Alex. I'm staying here. I'm going to face up to what we did if Agent Wheeler comes for me."

"That would mean giving me up," Alex said and she shook her head at him.

"No," she said. "I'll tell them I shot him and…and you found me when it was too late. Or I can leave you out of it. Just tell me what you want, Alex."

"None of that," Alex whispered, peering down to his lap before he moved to take hold of her hand, squeezing it tightly in his grip as she looked to him and he moved his gaze back to her. "I want you to come to Panama and I want you to disappear. They…apparently they can make this indictment go away, Clara. Agent Kim, the man who I deal with, told me that. He told me that if you left then it would all go away."

"How?" Clara asked him. "How can they keep burying what we did or what you have been forced to do?"

"Because they run everything," Alex told her.

"But there will always be someone, like Wheeler, who wants the truth. And yes, they can kill him to keep him quiet, but there will always be someone after him who also wants the truth."

"Then they kill them," Alex said with a shrug, keeping hold of her hand. "It is a chain, Clara. It is a chain that they will never break."

"And what are you doing?" Clara asked of him.

"Running," he mumbled. "Hence why I have the suitcase with me. I'm going to Panama and I'm going to call Pam and…I want her to come out with me…I want her to be with me."

Clara rolled her eyes at hearing that, pulling her hand from his and turning to face forwards. "So you intend to drag her into this mess?"

"I don't care what you think, Clara," Alex declared and she scoffed.

"That's good," Clara said with a sharp tone. "Because I think you're an idiot. Your wife has a life up here. She has a life that doesn't involve running away from the FBI and their investigations. You have a son…what? You want to take him with you and be watching over your shoulder every two minutes?"

Alex shook his head, feeling anger take over him at what he was hearing from her. She moved then, trying to push Alex out of the booth so that she could leave, but he grabbed hold of her by the wrist, holding onto it tightly to keep her in her place as he brought his face closer to hers, his voice a hiss as he spoke.

"Everything I have done has been for my family. If I go to Panama then I want them with me. I love them."

"Yeah," Clara nodded, "but if you love someone you don't subject them to a life on the run."

"And you'd know?" Alex wondered from her. "Look at you, Clara, you have no one. You have no one worth fighting for...no one who would fight for you."

Clara felt her rage boil over then as she moved her hand behind her body. She pushed it forwards, her palm flat in front of her as she allowed it to make contact with Alex's cheek. He hadn't been expecting it, the sound ricocheting off the walls as people turned to look at them. Clara watched him grab hold of his stinging flesh before she pushed him to the end of the seat and she clambered over him.

Bending at the waist, she spoke in a harsh tone down to him as he looked at her with shock. "I get it, Alex, thanks. I'm alone…I get it. I don't need you to remind me. Just know that there is a chance that your face will soon be plastered on TV along with mine on an FBI most wanted list."

He said nothing to her as he watched her storm off, her bag swaying on her hip as she slammed the door to the diner open. Alex remained seated where he was for a second, his cheek still aching as everyone went back to their own business, talking amongst themselves and no doubt gossiping about what they had just seen.

…

Clara didn't drive straight home that evening. Instead she was thinking about what Alex had just said to her. She had gone around the streets of Chicago before driving out to the suburbs. He was right. She had no one who was willing to fight for her. She had seen the way he would do anything for Pam. She had no one like that: not now.

Pulling into her driveway, Clara barely noticed the car parked on the side of the road. Climbing from the vehicle, she locked it before the other car door opened. Clara peered over to where the noise came from, eyes widening as soon as she saw him move out. Her mouth gaped as her arms folded over her chest.

"Tom," she said and he offered her a small nod.

He had his hands stuffed into his front jean's pockets. He wore a blue checked shirt and leather jacket. His face had barely aged, except for a couple of grey hairs in his blond locks, there was nothing different about him. His strong jaw was set and his blue eyes were darting around, almost as if he couldn't look at Clara.

"Clara," he responded with her name and she moved over the lawn to where he stood on the sidewalk, still peering down nervously.

"How…how are things going?" she felt lame even asking him the question, but she didn't know what else to say to him.

"Honestly?" he wondered back from her, "not great."

"What's up?" she asked.

"Listen, I wouldn't come here unless I was desperate," he said, the words stinging her slightly more than she cared to admit as she let out a nod of her head. "But I need my share of the house. I took a job over in Florida and it…well…it hasn't gone as well as I had hoped it would."

"Oh," Clara said with a nod of her head. "Yeah, well I have been looking at places close to the university."

She felt foolish now. Would she even have the chance to buy a new place? Would she even need one? She didn't know. She suspected she would end the month in a jail cell of some description if the FBI Internal Affairs found out what she had been hiding with Alex. She had no sense of running to Panama. She didn't want to run anymore. She was tired of hiding.

"I see," Tom said. "You see, the thing is…I kind of need the money soon."

"Right," Clara said. "Well, over the weekend I can go and check out some apartments and then we-"

"-You're not listening," Tom said, interrupting her with a shake of his head before he extended an arm, flailing it in frustration. "You never did listen…always too keen on the sound of your own voice."

Clara knew that there was something off with Tom. He was talking to her in that condescending tone he usually used when he didn't want to explain things properly to her. He would always snap and blame her for not understanding what he was talking about, despite fact she tried to understand.

"Okay," Clara said, holding her hands in front of her. "Listen, I don't know what more I can do, Tom."

"I need the money by the weekend, Clara," he informed her. "I mean; I technically own half of this house. I could claim my half back any time. I came here to be polite to you…to tell you that you needed to get out by the end of the week."

Clara looked shocked as she pointed at herself. "And I also own the other half," she reminded him, "so you cannot chuck me out and sell it without my approval."

"I'm asking nicely, Clara," Tom said.

Waving a hand, any initial feeling of joy she had felt at seeing the man before her disappeared. Instead she shrugged her shoulders and motioned to the house.

"I've had a long day," she told him and ignored the roll of his eyes. "I'm going to go and sleep. We can talk about whatever money issues you've got tomorrow. Okay?"

Clara turned on her heel, beginning to move towards the house, but Tom had other ideas. Moving his hand to grab hold of her wrist, he stopped her from going anywhere, the grip tight and punishing as he stood before her, his other hand going to the back of her neck, gripping tightly onto it as Clara bent her head back slightly, trying to ease the pain as his fingers gripped her hair.

"Just listen to me, Clara," he urged of her.

"Get off of me," Clara demanded of him. "I'm serious, Tom…get off…"

"I need the money," he said, his voice turning to one of desperation. "What part of that don't you understand? I need the money and I need it now."

"Just get off," Clara said, ignoring his pleas, but that only seemed to spur him as he moved his hand up her wrist and to her upper arm, his grip brutal against her flesh.

"No," Tom said in a short snap. "Now listen to me, Clara, you will-"

"-What the hell is going on here?"

Clara had thought that Tom would release her at the noise of the new voice. She hadn't seen him park his car behind Tom's, nor had she heard him open the door and move over to them. He was stood to the side of them as Tom turned to look at him, brow arching.

"Nothing that concerns you," Tom spoke and Clara felt his hand move from her neck, but he kept his hand on her arm. It was only as Tom stared closer, scrutinising the man before him did he let out a dark chuckle, remembering exactly who he was.

"Alexander Mahone," he spoke, letting out a low whistle. "So what was it? My fiancée goes all loopy…you feel sorry for her and the next thing you're in bed with her? I guess that would explain why you're here."

Alex neither confirmed nor denied the accusations. All he did was move his hands to his hips and then nod his head in the direction of the hand that was wrapped around Clara's arm in a vice like grip.

"I think you should let her go," Alex said to him.

"I'm not hurting her," Tom said defensively and Alex moved forwards then, going toe to toe with Tom and looking at him, an intimidating stare focused on him.

"I think you are," Alex spoke. "Now let her go."

"Were you fucking her while you were working on her dead sister's case?" Tom asked, his voice lacking any sympathy as Clara felt rage boil inside of her then. Before she had a chance to lash out, Alex was there in a second.

Moving to grab Tom's free arm, he twisted it behind his back and Tom grunted in pain as Alex moved to kick him in the back of his knee, making him fall to his knees as Alex bent, still holding onto his arm.

"I suggest you get out of here," Alex said, his voice threatening as he spoke in Tom's ear and Clara stood back, looking away from the sight. "And don't bother her again."

Tom said nothing further as Alex released his arm. Standing up, Tom looked between Alex and Clara before pointing to the woman he would have married. She folded her arms, almost looking worried at the mad gleam in his eye. He backed away to his car as he shouted.

"I will get my money, Clara," he told her. "I will be back."

"Stay away, Tom, or next time I call the police," Clara declared as Tom jumped into the car and went, not once looking back.

Clara could see curtains twitching across the road as she looked to Alex and then shook her head, not wanting to spend too long talking with him. Instead she merely kept her tone curt.

"Thank you," she said, "but I could have dealt with him on my own."

"I don't doubt it," Alex shrugged before looking down the street. "So…you were worried about The Company killing that guy? Sounds to me like they would be doing you a favour."

He didn't raise a smile from her. Instead she remained frowning as she watched Alex.

"He wasn't always like that," Clara whispered. "Just like you weren't always like this, I'd guess."

Alex could say nothing about that as he watched her head to the back yard. Following her, he remained behind her shoulder as he spoke.

"What I said in the diner was wrong," he declared, his voice open and honest with her. "I should have been…I wasn't very nice and I apologise for that."

"What do you want?" Clara wondered from him and Alex scratched the back of his neck as he came to her back yard, the porch light turning on and detecting their movements. "I thought that you should be on a flight to Panama by now?"

"So did I," Alex said, "but I couldn't do it. I couldn't go without apologising. I know…I know things between us have been difficult, especially with Wheeler suddenly poking his nose. But…that night you came to the field office and asked me to coffee…you…I don't know, Clara…"

"I'm still not coming, Alex," Clara said with a firm shake of her head. "I'm not running anymore."

"You've been running here," he responded. "For the past year we have both been running. When have you not been looking over your shoulder? This is a chance at a fresh start for both of us. Someone in that organisation has offered you a chance at a new life."

"And I want to know why they would do that," Clara agreed with him. "But I know what the people in this organisation are like. I don't trust them. I would rather rot in a jail cell than have anything to do with them."

Shaking his head, Alex stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he looked at her apologetically. "I'm going to do the job and disappear," he told her. "Scofield has money and a boat he commissioned in Panama. I'll get them for The Company and then I'm gone. I'm disappearing. I can't face life in jail…not when I have a family."

Shrugging, Clara knew there was no point in bringing up this subject again. Instead she just looked down to the ground.

"If they come then I'll tell them that I did it."

"No," Alex said with a solemn shake of his head. "Just tell them the truth, Clara. Don't make up any more lies for me. You've done more than enough for me. You've done more than you could have ever imagined."

"So this is it?" Clara asked.

"It's looking like it," he informed her with a nod of his head. "If there is nothing I can do to persuade you to come with me?"

"I want to," Clara said. "I want the chance at a new life…really…and if you can get it then make sure you do…but…I can't live like this. I can't live always worrying about a knock on the door."

Alex could say nothing further as he moved closer to her, his hand slowly moving towards her cheek. He cupped it tenderly as he saw the fear in her eyes. He knew she was being brave by facing up to things, but he knew that behind many brave actions there was an element of fear. He watched as she closed her eyes and he moved his thumb over her cheekbone before letting his hand tuck her hair behind her ear.

"Take care of yourself, Clara," he urged of her, bending down to press his lips against her cheek.

"You too, Alex," she responded in a small voice.

He released her then, moving out of her yard as she remained stood there, her eyes focused on him as she watched him go. He shut the gate and she felt something wet on her cheek. Her fingers moved to the corner of her eyes and she wondered why she was even crying. She tried to tell herself not to be ridiculous before going inside.

She locked the doors to the house and wandered inside. Moving to the fridge, she pulled out a bottle of wine before she heard a knock on the door. Flinching, she tried to shake off the feeling she felt when she heard the noise. Moving to the door, she opened the wood, half expecting to see Alex there. But he had gone. Instead there was a man in a suit, two other men behind him.

"Can I help you?" Clara asked of him.

He looked at her with beady eyes, his black hair neatly coiffed back on his head. "Ms Reynolds, we need you to come with us."

"Excuse me?" Clara demanded from him, keeping hold of the door, the wood tight in her grip.

"No harm will come to you, Ms Reynolds. We simply need to ask you a few questions regarding an email you received the other day."

Clara shrugged. "I haven't received an email," she informed him. "I mean, I receive hundreds of emails, but that's not unusual. I haven't received anything suspicious. What are you looking for?"

The man shot her a look to ask if she was being serious. She half expected that glance.

"Just come with us, Ms Reynolds, and we will confiscate your laptop."

"I don't think so," Clara said, but he was already pushing into her house, the other two men following as Clara stood aside.

"Hey!" she snapped as they began searching her living room for her laptop.

It was then when Clara knew she could either make a run for it or stay put and watch them trash her house. She knew which option sounded more viable. Picking up her satchel she had left by the door, she moved with haste, leaving the front door open as she ran to her car, unlocking it in time to hear the men call after her.

She climbed in and started the engine, reversing manically out of the driveway and onto the street as the men in suits chased after her. Pushing the gear into drive, Clara sped off as one of them moved his hand to wrap around the handle to the door. He fell as she continued to speed away, refusing to slow down as she looked over her shoulder.

Gulping lowly, Clara wondered what they had been talking about. She knew they had no chance of finding her laptop as she had left it in the office. She could have a chance to check her emails as soon as she found somewhere with internet. She drove into the city, pulling into a internet café. Running inside, she paid for use of a computer and took a seat.

She looked around, wondering she wanted to know what the email was. Surely these people could have deleted it from her inbox if they wanted to without her computer? Clara thought so. If they could do that then they must have known she hadn't read it. Of course, these people liked to be certain. Logging onto her email, she found nothing out of the ordinary and shook her head.

Moving away from the café, Clara knew that going home was not an option. They would be there and she didn't trust them when they said that they wouldn't be waiting for her. And so Clara went to the only place she could think of.

…

He was seated in the departure lounge, waiting to fly out when he saw her. It was first thing in the morning and the sun was slowly rising. He stood up as he heard the gate number being called when he saw her on the other end of the seating area. She was stood with her hands in front of her, her bag by her side. She had nothing else and she still wore the clothes from the evening before.

Moving towards her, he tossed his bag over his shoulder as the queue at the gate behind her grew. He ignored that for a moment, not desperate to queue and spend longer than he had to on the plane. Instead he moved to her and was shocked when he saw the tears in her eyes. He was even more shocked at his own reaction and hers too.

He dropped his bag to the floor, his arms automatically moving around her as hers went around his torso, her fingers knotting together and resting on his back as her cheek buried against his chest. Moving a hand to the back of her head, he held it gently as he noticed people watching them, but he failed to care what they were whispering.

"They came," Clara whispered. "Three of them came to my house when you had left. They said I had an email and they wanted me to go with them…I didn't know what they were on about…but I couldn't go…not with them…not again."

Alex nodded at what he was hearing from her as she looked up to him and he moved his thumbs to wipe her tears from her eyes as she took hold of his wrists as he made the motion. The look in her eyes was full of desperation.

"I want to do the right thing," she told him, "but I'm scared they'll get to me first."

"Then come with me," Alex urged of her. "Get on this plane and leave it all behind."

Shaking her head, Clara kept her hands on his wrists. "But everything has changed," she whispered to him. "They think I have something…some email…would they let me leave now without…I don't know…killing me?"

"I don't know," Alex admitted to her, "but just come with me and I'll keep you safe. I won't let them get to you."

"And Pam?" Clara asked of him. "Alex, you can't look out for me all of the time."

"I can," he protested to her. "You bought a ticket, Clara. That must tell you something. You want to get away from this and I will make sure it happens."

Clara didn't know whether to believe him or not, but he held his hand out towards her and she took it, looking behind her and wondering just what she was leaving behind.

…

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