Clara knew exactly where it was she had to go. Catching a cab, she gave the driver Sofia's address, hoping that no one had found the briefcase that she had been trying to break into. She urged for the cab to move quicker, her fingers drumming on her thigh as she finally pulled up outside the house. But she wasn't alone. Paying and thanking the driver, she climbed out, clinging onto her bag before moving into the house.

She was hesitant to begin with, but that hesitance left as soon as she saw Michael and Lincoln in the room. They turned around to look to her as she let her eyes widen. Tentatively, she stepped into the room and she knew that the brothers were less than impressed with her. That was probably down to her antics earlier.

"Listen," Clara said in a small voice, "what happened earlier-"

"-I don't want to talk about that," Lincoln interrupted her, eyebrows rising up on his forehead as he looked to her. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I want to help."

"You said that you wanted to help before."

"And I did," Clara informed him. "Granted, I wasn't that helpful because Sofia was kidnapped."

"And now she's in a hospital," Lincoln spat out as Clara let her eyes widen.

"What the hell happened?" she enquired of him.

"She was shot and Whistler escaped with The Company. Did you know that he was working with Gretchen? He's working with The Company," Lincoln declared before Michael looked to Clara, a hand holding his chin as he observed her and her red cheeks and eyes.

"Where's Alex?" Michael asked and Clara looked away.

It didn't take long for Michael to piece two and two together. "He's gone to work for them," Michael declared. "He abandoned you."

"No," Clara challenged him, refusing to listen to him say anything further. It took a moment before she could speak again, a lump in her throat as she did so. "Whistler isn't working for The Company. He's trying to bring them down by working with Gretchen. I don't know how, but Alex isn't working for them. He's working against them."

"And you expect us to believe that?" Lincoln wondered from her.

"Believe what you want, I know the truth," Clara responded. "Alex would never go back and work for the people who threatened to hurt his family. You know that, just as I know that."

"When it comes to Mahone then I know nothing," Lincoln said with a shake of his head. "All I know is that we've all been played and Sara is dead because of it."

Clara looked down, unable to look at the brothers as Michael sighed, knowing that he had no time to waste. He moved back into the bedroom and Clara dared to peer sideways, seeing that they had gotten into the briefcase. Clara picked her head up and moved to stand in the doorway.

"You got into it?"

"How did you know about it?" Lincoln challenged her.

"I saw Sofia trying to break into it before we were captured," she declared. "I figured it might have an answer about who James Whistler is that could help lead me to Alex."

"And I have the information," Michael told her, tucking a bunch of brown folders underneath his arm while Clara arched a brow. "And I am going to go and find Gretchen and kill her for what she did to Sara."

"Then I want to help," Clara protested, but Michael shook his head firmly.

"I'm doing this alone," Michael responded. "You're not coming with me. I don't even know if I can trust you."

"I trust her," Lincoln piped up, nodding his head as he looked to her with intrigue for a moment, trying to weigh up if he could actually trust her. He hoped that he could. "She's had plenty of opportunities to turn us in to The Company, but she never had. She's not part of them."

"Regardless," Michael responded, "she's not coming with me."

"I need to know where he is," Clara said, her voice pleading as Michael began to move from the bedroom and towards the door. "Please…Michael…if he's in trouble-"

"-Then I don't care," Michael interrupted with a shake of his head, his voice growing even more irate with each passing moment. "I don't care about Alex. All I care about is getting my revenge for Sara and that is it."

"Michael…please…" Clara said as Lincoln folded his arms and watched her stare after Michael, but he didn't turn around. Instead he went to the door and held it open wide, calling back to Lincoln.

"Let's go, Linc," he urged his brother as Lincoln nodded, moving a hand to rest on Clara's arm lightly as he passed her by and all she could do was stare after them hopelessly.

"Go home, Clara…forget about him," Lincoln urged of her and she shook her head with haste, turning to look away as they both left her alone in the house.

"No chance in hell is that going to happen."

…

Clara had been home for two weeks and ever since then she had returned to work after being told that the head of department was considering her position at the college. But in her spare time, Clara did everything in her power to find Alex. She still had contacts in the journalism industry, granted they were shocked to hear from her after years of silence, but she managed to persuade them to look into The Company.

The problem was that no one believed her. No one knew anything about The Company, not even those with contacts in government. Everything felt like a complete dead end. Clara found herself still searching, her living room wall covered with everything she could find about Gretchen and Whistler, but it was proving elusive.

She sat down on the floor, her laptop open in front of her and a glass of wine to the side of her. She had changed into her gym gear after attending another class that night, her hair pulled back and her face still red from the warmth. She had the TV on in the background providing noise while her main attention was on the research.

Before she could do anything further, the doorbell rang and Clara stood up, taking a sip of wine as she made the motion. Walking over towards it, she pulled the wood open to see a familiar sight on her porch. She said nothing as she chewed down on her lip and glowered at the man on her doorstep.

"What is it?" Clara demanded from the man stood there.

"I saw you on the news, Clara," he responded, hands going through his hair. "You've been busy trying to help that Agent friend of yours…Mahone…after everyone he killed."

"You know nothing."

"True," he responded to her, "the news didn't report much on it, just that he was claiming his innocence. Everything was very secretive."

"Get lost, Tom," Clara demanded, not wanting to engage in conversation with the man stood across from her. Instead she tried to shut the door, but Tom's foot was there in an instant, blocking her.

It took her a moment before she could stop the fear inside of her at the motion. She kept the door tightly in her grip as Tom moved his hand to hold it, both of them pushing against each other.

"Get out," Clara demanded from him.

"Not until I get what I want," Tom reported. "You see, I gave you a deadline, Clara. I told you that you had until the weekend to sell the house and give me my half…that was…what? Three weeks ago? Four weeks ago?"

"This is my house as much as yours," Clara informed him. "And I told you that I would sell it, but I have been pretty busy. Besides, if you had asked nicely then I would have bought out your half of the house, but you didn't, Tom."

"Then do that and I'll get off your back," Tom demanded from her.

"Not a chance in hell," Clara hissed at him, looking at him with contempt. "You see, I don't give a shit about what happens to you or your money troubles. You're not my problem now."

He saw red then and acted with haste, pushing the door open and overpowering Clara as he moved into the house. She wondered what the hell he was going to do as she saw him glance to the pictures on the wall, brow furrowing as he did so.

"What is that?" he asked.

"A research project, now get out," Clara said and that seemed to be enough to bring his attention back to her.

"No," Tom said. "You see, we're going to pack your things, Clara. We're going to pack and you're going to move out…rent an apartment at short notice…"

"I am not," Clara responded, moving to grab hold of her landline phone. "Now get out of my house before I call the police."

Before she had a chance to punch in the numbers, Tom had pushed the phone from her grip, letting it fall to the floor as his hand went to the back of her head and gripped hold of her ponytail, tugging down on it and causing her to wince in pain. Tom moved quickly then, dragging her by her hair towards the kitchen, his free hand moving into kitchen cabinets as he pulled things out.

"It isn't difficult," Tom told her, grabbing the plates and putting them on the worktop. "You take things out and you box them up, see?"

"Get off me!" Clara roared at him, her voice harsh and demanding before she acted.

She remembered everything that Lincoln had taught her and what she had learned in her classes. She remained mute as she acted quickly, moving her elbow until it was square with Tom's stomach and she pushed back with as much brute force as possible. Tom gasped in pain as he doubled over, his grip on her hair weakening as she took the opportunity to elbow him in the stomach once more.

"You bitch!" he roared at her as she stood up tall and moved her fist to make contact with his face, no doubt leaving a bruise as she pulled back and held her knuckles, her voice shaking as she watched him hold his face and remain bent in pain.

"Get the hell out of here," Clara roared at him.

"Why?" Tom asked. "You don't have your new boyfriend to stick up for you, Clara…whoring yourself out to him…"

"Do you think I need him?" Clara asked of Tom as he lunged towards her.

She ducked to avoid him, slipping under his arm before grabbing hold of it and twisting it behind his back as he grunted in agony and Clara began pushing him towards the door. She found that considerably easy to do considering she was minutes away from being able to break his arm.

"I can beat your ass without the help of any man," Clara said. "So get out and never bother me again. I'll transfer the money when the house is sold, but it will be on my terms or I will call the police and have you arrested for harassment."

"You beat me," Tom said. "I don't think they'd take kindly to that."

Clara scoffed. "Yeah, because it wouldn't hurt your ego to know everyone that a woman punched you," she said, voice full of sarcasm as she finally came to the front door and pushed him through it one final time, watching him stumble on the porch as she slammed the door shut.

She heard him yelling from outside. He wouldn't stop and Clara contemplated calling the police, but she refused to let him win. Instead she found herself picking up her glass of wine and sipping slowly on it, burying her head into her hands once she had finished.

She didn't know why she was shaking. She had beaten Tom. She had been the one to kick him out. But all she could think was of how angry he had been. He had looked at her as though she was nothing but trash. He had looked at her with such distaste that she wondered what more he would have done. She continued to shake before doing exactly what she didn't want to.

She stood up and began packing her things into boxes she brought out from the spare bedroom. He could have half the house and then that would get him out of her life. She didn't sleep that night, instead choosing to stay awake and finish putting everything into boxes, piling them up in the dining room.

The next day she would arrange a removal truck to put them into storage. Clara didn't want to say in Chicago while Tom was still around. Instead she picked up the phone and called the only member of family that she had left.

"Lisa…I need your help."

…

Scylla. It was all that Alex could think about. He had been gone for over three weeks when it had happened. The phone call had almost mended his broken heart as he listened to his wife on the phone. She was willing to give him another chance. She wanted to be with him. Alex had felt the smile on his face continue to grow as she said those words to him.

She had sounded so genuine and all Alex could do was make his way back to Colorado. He had been working with Whistler to retrieve Scylla, The Company's little black book, but it had been to no avail. Whistler had been shot and Alex had tried to convince Michael that he truly was bringing down The Company. He didn't know if Michael had believed him as they had been separated as soon as Whistler was shot.

Alex had rushed back to the car and called Pam. That was when she had told him how she was willing to come back to him; to make their marriage work. The drive to Colorado had been long and tedious. His mind had wandered off of Pam and onto Clara, wondering exactly what she was getting up to.

He had promised her that he would look into The Company. He had made that promise and now he was working to go back to Pam. He felt as though he had betrayed Clara, but he made a silent promise that he would go back to her. And then he had turned his thoughts to the moment he had kissed her outside of that bar before leaving.

Would she feel betrayed by him? Did she think that he was leading her on? Truth be known, Alex didn't exactly know why he had pressed his lips to Clara's, only that he wanted to do it. He had chuckled at that. He wanted to do a lot of things, but he didn't go through with it. His feelings for Clara were still a mystery, but he had buried them in order to get to his wife.

Only he had been too late. He had pulled up outside of the house and he had seen the cordon and the cop cars. He had slowed down, abandoning the car before pushing his body from the vehicle, tossing his sunglasses to the side as he ran with haste towards the house his wife lived in. He was restrained by cops as he yelled out in pain, demanding to be let in and see his wife.

But they had told him that he didn't want to go in there. It was then when Alex knew that they had gotten to his family. They had finally destroyed everything.

…

Clara could hardly believe what she was reading as she curled onto the sofa in her cousin's apartment. She had changed into her pyjamas, the newspaper in her grip as her cousin sat to the other end of the sofa. She still wore her suited black dress on her body, her heels kicked off as she watched Clara with intrigue.

"You can talk to me," she urged her and Clara folded the newspaper in half. "Clara, what has been going on in your life?"

Clara chuckled and dropped the paper into her lap, leaning forwards to pick up the glass of white wine from the glass coffee table. She had her eyes set on the wine as she felt her cousin continue to stare at her.

"I don't know if you would believe me," Clara let out a deep breath.

"I might do," she responded, raking a hand through her straight hair as she set her eyes on the newspaper and saw the front page. The convicts from Fox River had been arrested and placed in a super max facility. "Just talk to me."

"Where do you want me to start, Lisa?" Clara wondered in a small voice. "I mean…there was this guy…Alex…he worked my sister's case and we stayed in touch." She didn't bother to mention Shales. She kept up with the pretence. "Anyway, he told me that there was this mysterious organisation called The Company who were making him kill off the Fox River Eight."

"What?" Lisa asked, her voice hoarse and her mouth dry as she continued to remain intrigued by what she was hearing from her cousin. "That sounds ridiculous."

"I thought so too," Clara responded, "until they sent an agent to threaten me. Apparently Alex should never have involved me and they warned me that if I went to the cops then I'd be in trouble. Anyway, I got involved…ending up going with Alex to track one of the cons and they…Lisa…"

Moving towards her cousin, Lisa took hold of her hand, holding onto it tightly and squeezing. Clara looked down to her lap, her eyes welling with tears. She didn't want to relive it, but she was struggling not to. All she could picture was the man as he held her down and dug the knife into her.

"What happened, Clara?" Lisa demanded, her voice tender as Clara sniffed.

She uncurled her hand from Lisa's and stood up, unbuttoning her shirt as she turned around, the pyjama shirt falling down her shoulders. Lisa let out a large gasp, her head shaking back and forth as she stood up and looked to the scars. She didn't dare move out and touch them. Instead she let Clara do her shirt back up and she took her hand again.

"What the hell did they do to you?" Lisa worried.

"They sent someone to torture me," Clara whispered. "I'd met with Michael Scofield and Lincoln Burrows and they thought I knew something…and I did…I knew they were innocent, but I didn't tell him anything. He just warned me to stay away."

"And you didn't?" Lisa wondered and Clara chuckled.

"More fool me, huh?" she responded, holding onto Lisa's fingers as she sunk back down onto the sofa and Lisa sat closer to her. "Michael Scofield sent me an email of the President admitting her brother was alive…and her lover."

Lisa pulled a face, wrinkling her forehead as Clara let her free hand wipe her eyes.

"I know," Clara agreed with her look of disgust. "Anyway, The Company sent another agent round and told me they wanted to talk to me. I ran. I didn't trust them…so I went with Alex to Panama. He intended to run away and escape them and he told me to go with him."

"Alexander Mahone ended up in a Panamanian jail, didn't he?" Lisa wondered. "I saw it on the news. He ended up being busted for drug smuggling."

Clara scoffed. "That's ironic, really," Clara said. "Alex had a drug problem, but he didn't smuggle drugs. Scofield planted them in the boat and he ended up in jail. Anyway…I tried to get Alex out…called Internal Affairs at the FBI and they set up a hearing for him to give his testimony in the Lincoln Burrows case. It didn't go to plan and Alex…he ended up back in jail and then escaped with Scofield and some others."

Lisa tried to take in what she was hearing as Clara folded her legs back underneath her body, tiredness washing over her as she let her eyes wander to the full length window of the penthouse apartment her cousin owned. The view over the coast was stunning, even in the dark.

"And now he's in jail," Lisa concluded, motioning to the paper that Clara had been reading.

"And now he's in jail," she echoed.

"Why did he come back to the States if he was a wanted man?" Lisa enquired and Clara shrugged her shoulders.

"No idea," she admitted to her. "I mean…he…he was talking about trying to take The Company down, but there was this woman who worked for them. She was called Gretchen and she said that my parents were involved with The Company and I don't know what she was going on about."

Lisa tried not to ask her any further questions. Instead her mind was in a whirl at what her cousin was just telling her. It took her a moment before she bit down on her lip and Clara sent her a pleading look, her eyes wide and still wet.

"You don't think I'm mad, do you?" Clara wondered from Lisa. "I mean, I would understand if you did. Everything I have just told you sounds ridiculous and even I'm struggling to believe it, but it's the truth."

"I know," Lisa said, moving to take hold of her other hand. "I know, Clara. I do believe you. You're not crazy and the things that happened with Caroline Reynolds and Lincoln Burrows were proven to be true."

"Thank you," Clara said, a hysterical short laugh escaping her. "I mean, I feel as though I'm going crazy and it's all I can think about…The Company…my parents…Alex…"

"I take it you're close to Alexander Mahone? You've got to be to follow him to Panama," Lisa said and Clara shrugged, avoiding her gaze then.

"I guess so," she said in a whisper. "I don't know. All I know is that he's locked up and I haven't seen him in a month. Then again, I have a track record with men, don't I? Look at Tom."

Lisa offered her an angry shake of her head then. "If that scumbag comes near you again then you have to tell me, Clara. Or you need to call the police. He scared you out of your own home to come here…not that I mind; I miss seeing you. Ever since Theresa died I've been worried for you."

Offering her a small smile, Clara nodded. "Thank you," she said again. "I know I've been distant, Lisa…but I've…a lot has happened and I just needed to talk to someone."

"And I'm always here for you to talk to," Lisa said, moving to wrap her arms around her cousin, holding onto her tightly for a few brief moments as Clara did the same, not wanting to let go of her.

It was another minute before Lisa pulled away, hands running up and down Clara's back. She offered her a slim smile before standing up and picking up the empty wine bottle.

"We could do with another one of these, I think," she said and Clara managed to quirk her lips.

"Will Erol not be home soon?" Clara wondered.

Lisa scoffed. "Doubt it," she said. "Besides, you need my time more than he does."

Wandering off with the empty bottle into the kitchen, Lisa looked back into the living room, Clara having stood up and wandered up the two steps that led onto the balcony, pulling the door open and stepping outside. It was then when Lisa pulled her cell out from her bag she had dumped on the kitchen worktop, looking at it before calling a familiar number. As soon as he answered she felt her anger grow.

"What the hell did you do to her?"

…

Alex didn't know how it had happened. One minute he was sat in a jail cell and the next he was being drafted in by a department from Homeland Security. Agent Don Self had demanded for them to find Scylla which comprised of a card that had to be placed into a device to be read. In return for Scylla, they would be free.

Sucre, Bellick, Burrows and Scofield. Alex recognised all of them, but Roland. He was the hacker who designed the device they needed to copy the cards that contained Scylla. Alex had been glad when they found the first card and retrieved the data from it. It had almost been too easy, but of course nothing ever was that simple. It turned out instead of there only being one card to find, they had six in total. Alex cursed under his breath, wondering how they were going to do it.

They had slept on it and then Self had told them that if they wanted the deal to go through then they had no other option but to get the other cards. Alex had wandered off then, his mind on something else entirely, mainly his son. He had called Lang, asking her if she would help him.

He wanted revenge on the man who had kill his boy. Lang had agreed to send through any information she could find and Alex had waited for it with bated breath as they set the next stage of their plan into motion. As the end of the day came about, Alex had found himself decoding emails to find the next cardholder before they had set out to find them. They had done that and Michael had managed to get a photo of all six cardholders.

Back at the base, Alex had gone for the documents that Lang had sent to him, hidden away at the end of the dock. Alex had picked them up and taken them back to the base, hiding himself in the corner of the warehouse before he bent over and felt the tears roll down his face.

It had taken only a few minutes before Lincoln had found him, hands on his hips as he looked to him and chewed down on his tongue, pity coming into his voice as he spoke.

"Alex," he said.

Looking up, Alex sniffed and dropped the papers down by his side, one hand wrapping around the shelf he was hiding behind. He shook his head as Lincoln continued to speak.

"I know," he whispered. "I know about your son."

"They finally got to them," Alex said in a low voice. "They got to my son and now I'm trapped here…in this warehouse…when all I want is to find the son of a bitch who did this to my son."

His voice shook as Lincoln nodded his head, able to comprehend how Alex would be feeling. He didn't know entirely, but he had a feeling that how he felt was devastated. Lincoln would be.

"I'm sorry," Lincoln managed to say to him. "I…I'll help you find him."

"Why?" Alex wondered back and Lincoln shrugged over to him as Alex continued to sob.

"Because your son didn't deserve that. He was a kid, man…an innocent kid…and I want to help," Lincoln said and he held his hand out, offering it to Alex.

Alex hesitantly stepped forwards before taking his fingertips and shaking his hand, unable to look him in the eye before releasing his grip and going back to the corner he was hiding in, his hand going around the shelf again. Lincoln remained stood where he was, wondering what he could do to help, except for finding the man who killed his son.

"Where is your ex-wife?" Lincoln wondered.

"Protective custody," Alex said. "I'm meeting her Wednesday morning, but she's better off away from me."

"She'll be safer," Lincoln agreed with that. "And Clara? You know…she might have found out who she knows in The Company? Find this bastard?"

Alex shook his head. "I don't want to drag her into this," Alex said with a shake of his head. "I left her behind to keep her safe. I can't drag her back into this."

"You know she begged to go with Michael to try to find you?" Lincoln asked of Alex. "He left her behind, but she seemed pretty determined."

Letting out a dark chuckle, Alex nodded his head. "Sounds like Clara," he said.

"Yeah," Lincoln agreed before moving off and leaving Alex to his own thoughts and sorrow.