"Level with me," Clara whispered as Wheeler approached them, "how bad will it dent our chances if I slap that smug smirk off of his face?"
"That's if I don't get there first," Alex informed her and she almost let out a laugh, but she kept it in, her glare remaining on Wheeler.
Slipping into the booth opposite them, Lang sat across from Clara while Wheeler sat across from Alex. The look on his face was enough to make Clara ball her hands into fists. He was looking at them like they were nothing but dirt. It was as if they were beneath him. He really was a piece of work. Moving to sip on his coffee, Wheeler then laced his fingers together on top of the table.
"Good choice for a meeting spot, Alex," Wheeler said. "A crowded place and some exits…a table with a view of the room. I'd say life on the run is suiting you."
Alex felt his hand move under the table to grasp hold of the edge of the seat, gripping onto it tightly as he looked down for a moment, his other arm still resting over the back of the chair as Clara remained sat up straight, hands gripping the mug in front of her.
"I hear you've been promoted," Alex responded.
"When you're not a disgrace or a drug addict it is impressive how far you can come," Wheeler responded.
"Hey," Clara snapped at him as he turned his gaze to her. "He's clean, you jumped up little toad. Don't you dare talk about him like that."
He looked at her with a level stare and Alex moved his hand under the table to rest on top of her thigh, his fingers curling around it as he hoped to subtly tell her that he could handle Wheeler. She didn't bother to look to him, her eyes remained fixed on Wheeler. Moving her hand to rest on top of Alex's she flipped his fingers over, allowing hers to clasp around hers.
"Well, thank you, Ms. Reynolds, for that charming statement," he responded.
"Wow," Clara responded, eyes wide, "if you think that's charm then you've been dating some pretty harsh women."
"I see sarcasm is misplaced with some people," was all Wheeler responded with and Clara rolled her eyes, not biting the bait that he was offering her as Alex got to back to business.
"Let's get a move on, Mark," Alex said. "So let me appeal to the side of you that loves your photo in the newspapers."
Folding his arms on the table, Wheeler leant further forwards. "Lang told me. You've got some good intelligence. I don't know whether to be more sceptical of The Company or of some middle aged man who lost his job."
"Were you not there?" Clara demanded from him as Alex looked around for a moment. "I came in front of you and Sullins and I told you what they have done. What is it? You want me to show you the scars again? I think I might just have that needle scratch from where their hitman injected me. Just let me check."
Before she could roll up her sleeve, Alex was stopping her, fingers going around her wrist as he placed her arm back down in her lap, his gaze fixed on her as he saw her redden and he knew what she was thinking. She would sometimes go back to that dark place. Usually it would be in her dreams, but Alex could sometimes see horror plaster itself on her face when someone mentioned the likes of Wyatt or being hurt by The Company.
Gently, he kept his hand holding onto her wrist, moving down until he had engulfed her hand with his fingers once more. Looking back to Wheeler, he watched as the agent kept his gaze on Clara who, in turn, was looking out the window.
"You need to keep your girlfriend under control, Alex," Wheeler said, but Alex ignored him.
"Felicia tells me you know the Attorney General."
He huffed and sat up straight, back cracking slightly as he made the movement. "Yeah," he confirmed.
"Look…everything is compromised…the bureau…Homeland…I need someone who I can trust. I need to know if I can trust you before I tell you anything."
There was a moment of silence as Alex watched Wheeler with intent, his thumb roaming over Clara's knuckles as she remained more focused on the outside world. Keeping silent, Alex watched as Wheeler leant forwards once more, voice stern and in a hiss.
"If you get me credible information then I will see about taking you to the Attorney General myself."
Nodding, Alex gave Clara's hand a final squeeze before slipping from the booth. "You'll get it," he told Wheeler, pulling his cell out to call Michael while Clara remained sat where she was.
Turning his attention to her, Wheeler watched her for a moment. "I would have thought that you would have more sense," he declared.
"Mark," Lang warned him as Clara looked back to him, her eyes wide as all the anger had left her face. Instead all that remained was a look of worry. She had gone back to that place. She had gone back to that night when that man had broken into her house and tortured her.
"You have no clue," Clara said to him, her voice slightly hoarse. "You have no idea what we've been through or who you are dealing with. The Company…they're everywhere. They're…I can give you everything. I can tell you who runs it. My uncle."
Mark looked shocked then as Felicia turned away and Clara continued, leaning over to look at him.
"My uncle runs The Company and he sent someone to torture me. My own uncle…what…you think I'd make this up?" Clara demanded from him. "Don't you get it? All we want is to get away from this mess."
"If you wanted to get away from this mess then you should have thought before you pulled the trigger on Oscar Shales," Mark declared and Felicia let her voice drop to a dangerous level as she glowered at Mark.
"That case was dropped," she snapped at him. "Why don't you just leave her alone?"
"Because we all know what she did with him, and what…now they walk around acting like Romeo and Juliet?"
"I should hope not because I don't fancy ending up dead," Clara deadpanned before Alex returned, slipping into the booth and nodding his head at them.
"Give them half an hour," Alex said, "and then I will have the Intel you need."
That was the longest half an hour of their life. Clara remained sat where she was, looking down to the table as her hands remained under it, her leg bouncing up and down as she tried to control her nerves. Alex had gone back to resting his arm over the back of the chair, fingers drumming on the faded red material while his other hand held his thigh.
"I'll give them another call," Alex muttered after twenty-five minutes had passed and he pulled his cell back out, calling Lincoln. "Yeah, it's me," Alex said. "Did you get it?"
The look on Alex's face was enough to tell Clara that they hadn't gotten Scylla. He kept on talking, but Clara couldn't catch what he was saying. She kept silent as he hung up, moving her hand to his forearm as he looked into the distance and Wheeler scoffed, slipping away. Bowing her head, Clara let her forehead rest on Alex's shoulder as he turned his head to look to her, his arm crossing over his body to rest his hand on her arm.
"They've got Michael," he told her. "It…it didn't work."
"So what now?" Clara wondered as Lang left them alone, heading to talk to Wheeler.
"I don't know," Alex admitted, for the first time in a while at loss. There seemed to be no hope left. Instead all he could do was let his arm move to wrap over her shoulders. "Maybe the deal still stands and we can speak to the AG."
"They're arguing," Clara responded, looking out the window to them.
"I know," Alex replied.
Lang left Wheeler for a moment, walking back into the diner and perching down in the booth once more, looking between the two of them. "The Attorney General will hear your case," she said to them. "The flight to Dallas to talk to him leaves in forty five minutes. Provisions have been made for Ms. Reynolds to be taken home."
"What?" Clara demanded, shaking her head as she let go of Alex. "But I know things too. I want to go with him."
"Not possible, I'm afraid," Lang replied and she stood up, moving off as Clara remained in the booth with Alex, watching the woman leave, her hands on her hips and her head bowed.
But Alex knew. He knew exactly what was happening. If Clara wasn't coming with him then that only meant one thing. She tried to move past him, her body barging into his as Alex remained where he was, taking a deep breath and knowing that he had to accept his fate. Looking to her, he couldn't let on that he knew they had been played. Instead he looked her in the eye, hands going to her shoulders.
"It's my testimony they want in exchange for immunity," he told her. "You're not under arrest for anything, Clara."
"But I can back up your story," Clara protested.
"Yeah," Alex agreed, "so get out to Dallas as soon as possible, okay?"
"Yeah, of course," Clara said, following Alex as he stood up.
Moving out of the diner, Alex kept his hand on the small of her back as Wheeler held the back door to the car open, waiting for him to climb in. Clara moved to stand in front of Alex, not caring that Wheeler was waiting for them. Instead she remained silent, hands on her hips as she looked to him.
"I'll see you soon, okay?" she told him. "We'll be fine…somehow we'll get through it."
"Yeah," Alex said, voice hoarse and Clara wondered why he was struggling to look to her. It wasn't like this could be goodbye, could it? Alex moved towards her, his hand going to hold onto her cheek as he leant forwards, bending slightly until he had pressed his lips against hers.
She savoured the moment before Alex pulled back, giving one final stroke of her cheek before he climbed into the back of the car.
Clara watched Wheeler shut the door and she folded her arms over her chest, shooting him a glare before he climbed into the car. Alex looked out the window, watching Clara until they had pulled away. She didn't move, instead all she could do was stare after him. Sitting up, Alex looked to Lang in the wing mirror before speaking.
"There's no meeting, is there?" he said in a whisper to her.
The tears in her eyes were enough to confirm that to him.
"It's alright," Alex said to her. "I don't blame you. Just…call Clara…tell her not to book a ticket to Dallas. Tell her what has happened."
"Of course," Lang whispered to him. "Of course."
…
Clara had thrown herself into a fit of rage as soon as she had been told the news. She couldn't believe it. She didn't want to believe it. They had lied to her. Lang had spoken to her on the phone and told her not to fly to Dallas. They were taking Alex straight to jail. Wheeler had played them. Clara had yelled, her voice audible to Alex as he sat in the back of the car and heard her.
He could hear her demand to speak to him, but Lang said that was not possible. She had told Clara what would happen to him and Alex had gone numb then, unable to believe that this could be it. He didn't want this to be it. He wanted to get out of that car and go back to LA. He wanted to find Scylla. He wanted his name cleared. He wanted to see Clara again.
"So how did you manage it, huh, Alex?" Wheeler wondered. "How did you manage to get her wrapped around your little finger?"
"Shut up, Wheeler," Alex muttered.
"She sounded pretty pissed."
"Yeah, she doesn't appreciate people lying to her," Alex reiterated. "Which, by the way, neither do I."
"Did you think that we were going to take you to the AG?" Wheeler wondered from him. "Alex, after everything you've done, you're going nowhere but a jail cell. Anyway, she's better off without you, despite the fact that she's-"
"-Don't finish that sentence," Alex demanded from him, interrupting him with a low and dangerous voice. "Just don't talk about her."
…
Clara didn't know what more she could do. She had tried to help Alex, but it hadn't worked. So she did the next best thing. She pulled her cell out of her bag and she called Lincoln, demanding to know where he was. If she could go back and help them get Scylla then maybe, just maybe, she could save Alex from a life inside of a jail cell.
…
Picking her up outside of the airport, Lincoln climbed from the car, his blazer flying around him in the breeze as he saw her. She had her bag on her shoulder and her suitcase was by her side. She shot him a smile, but it was fake and plastered on her face. The sunglasses on her eyes covered up her puffy red eyes as she moved to embrace the burly man in front of her, her arms wrapping around his waist for a moment.
"How is Michael?" Clara wondered, pulling back after a second to look up to him.
"He's recovering from surgery," Lincoln said. "There's…Clara…there's something I need to tell you and you're not going to like it."
"What is it?" she wondered, but some car behind Lincoln's let their horn make a blaring noise. Clara rolled her eyes as Lincoln took her case, opening the trunk and putting it into the space before getting back into the car.
Driving off, Lincoln let out a deep breath.
"I'm working for your uncle."
His sentence took her off guard, her mouth gaping widely as she felt her body slowly become covered in goosebumps. She shook her head as Lincoln continued to drive, focused on the road instead of her. She thought that this was some kind of joke, but as Lincoln kept speaking she knew it wasn't.
"I had no choice," he informed her. "Krantz was going to let Michael die if I didn't agree to get Scylla back. He…Michael was sick, Clara…really sick…he wasn't going to make it and I had no other choice. Believe me, I hate this just as much as you do. I know what he has done."
"But tell me there's a plan," Clara pleaded with him. "A plan where Michael gets better and we get Scylla somewhere safe?"
"No," Lincoln said to her. "I'm not the man with the plans, Clara. We both know that. Michael is the one who plans…I…I'm doing this because I want my brother to be safe."
"And I came back to get Scylla and help Alex," Clara said. "I like Michael, I really do, Lincoln, but Alex…they took him away. They don't believe him and they're going to lock him up."
"Listen, I'm sorry about Mahone, okay?" Lincoln told her, "but there's nothing I can do about that. He isn't my number one priority."
"No, but he's mine," Clara responded with haste. "And I know that you don't want to help Krantz. I know that, Lincoln. So…so we need to come up with a plan. We need to be Michael for once and find something to make this work for everyone."
"And how do we do that?" Lincoln asked from her.
"I don't know," she admitted in a whisper. "I honestly don't know."
…
Lincoln filled Clara in on everything. He told her about how Michael was still in The Company's care and how a buyer had escaped with Scylla while Sucre and Lincoln had held Gretchen and Self hostage. Clara had then gone on to learn that Lincoln was now in the process of working with Gretchen, Bagwell and Self who had gone on to Miami to find the buyer from the Company.
Sitting in the hotel that Lincoln had booked, he looked over to Clara, wondering what to say to her. He had told her that they were heading to Miami that evening and that she could either join them or stay behind, given the circumstances. Apparently Krantz knew that his niece was back in town. He had demanded for Lincoln to bring her to the headquarters, but even Lincoln wasn't stupid enough to do that.
"I'm not making you go to him," Lincoln informed her. "Listen, Clara, I know that this isn't ideal."
"Isn't ideal?" she echoed. "Every time you come off the phone you give me more bad news. So now we need to work with a rapist, a woman who I am pretty sure is psychotic, and a man who betrayed us? How the hell can we trust them?"
"We can't," Lincoln told her, "and that's why Sucre left. He couldn't get deeper into this and I don't blame him, just like I wouldn't blame you if you turned around right now and told me you wanted out…wanted to go home and be safe."
"And Alex?" Clara wondered. "I know you're working for The Company now to keep your family safe, but promise me we won't stop fighting to get Scylla into better hands."
"I don't care about that anymore," Lincoln shrugged. "I just care about protecting the people I love."
"Just as I do," Clara said, "and that is why there is no chance I am letting you go out there alone. Alex is…he's…I want him back. So we go."
…
Clara felt sick as soon as she stepped into the apartment and saw them all sat around the breakfast bar. Their eyes turned to her as she wandered through the space and Lincoln walked besides her. Both of them were silent, but Don was the first one to speak, no doubt unable to keep his big mouth shut for more than twenty minutes.
"She's here?" he demanded from Lincoln.
"Got a problem with that?" Clara snarled. "I'm doing this to help Michael." She lied easily. "So why don't you just shut your face and get on with finding Scylla, you two faced bastard."
Gretchen actually let her lip quirks at hearing Clara while Bagwell let out a low whistle.
"I do like 'em feisty," he commented and Lincoln shot a glare in his direction.
"You go anywhere near her and I'll make sure it isn't a tooth I rip from your body next time," Lincoln warned him as Clara dropped her bag onto the sofa and pulled her cell out, wondering if she could get in touch with Alex. Would there be anyway for him to know what was happening?
She doubted it. She didn't even know where he was. She should find out. She should find out where they were holding him. She should do that much for him. But she had no numbers for anyone. Keeping silent as she wandered onto the balcony, she let her arms dangle over the side before peering out at the marina. She could hear them talking behind her, but she didn't move.
She gathered up the courage to go back in, knowing that she was out of her depth.
"We have a hit," Gretchen was the one to speak and Clara looked over to him as they all stood around a computer screen. "The guy made three calls to this restaurant last night."
"I'll go and check it out." Lincoln said, looking to Clara. "You coming?"
"Yeah," she nodded with haste, not fancying staying in an apartment full of crooks. Moving to grab her bag, she followed Lincoln back to the car, jumping in as Gretchen text him the address and he tapped it into the GPS.
"Promise me you won't leave me alone with them," Clara urged from Lincoln.
"Why did you think I asked you to come?" Lincoln responded. "Don't worry. I'll keep you close by."
…
The trip to the bar had proven to be useless. They knew that they were being lied to when the bartender and manager said that they didn't know who they were talking about. But then Lincoln had started a brawl when the blonde woman in the background continued to look shifty. Standing back, Clara watched Lincoln deal with the men before demanding to know the buyer's identity from the blonde woman. She had shrieked loudly, fear in her voice as she told him that the girl who worked there knew him.
Dragging her from the bar, Clara had rolled her eyes at his dramatics, watching as he demanded for her to call the girl and bring her to a specific location. Clara sat in the back of the car, listening with intent as the woman said that the girl would be there in a minute. Apparently the buyer and the girl had a volatile relationship.
The girl approached and Lincoln climbed from the car to speak to her, leaving Clara sat in the back seat. But as he moved, Clara knew something was off. The girl moving towards him didn't look at him. Instead she looked into the corner as gunshots began to fire.
"Hey!" Clara yelled as the blonde woman they had kidnapped jumped from the car.
Moving out the vehicle, Clara tried to chase after her but it proved fruitless. She had gone. Lincoln grunted in frustration before moving back into the car and Clara shook her head.
"She was his girlfriend," Clara said.
"Good job I took insurance," Lincoln said and pulled out her wallet that he had stolen and Clara nodded.
"Very clever for you," she said.
"I'm working on it."
…
Lincoln chucked the wallet over to Gretchen once they had returned, telling her to do a scan on the woman. She set about working while T-Bag and Self remained on the balcony, talking to each other.
"What are they on about?" Clara was the one to ask.
"Don't know, don't care," Lincoln mumbled.
"I'll give you two guesses," Gretchen responded, looking to Clara. "And trust me, if you can't get it in two then you shouldn't be here. Besides, I'm shocked you're here. I take it you found out what your uncle did?"
Clara kept her lips pursed for a second. "I'm not doing this for him," was all she said. "So just keep your nose out of my business and get to work."
Clara wandered off then, moving up the steps and towards the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and taking a deep breath. Stepping in front of the sink, she ran the cold water before crouching over and splashing her face with cold water, some of her dark locks sticking to her cheeks once she had made the motion. Closing her eyes, she took a moment to herself before drying her hands, tugging the dress she wore down her thighs before leaving the bathroom again.
Going back down, she saw Lincoln and Gretchen sat on the sofa.
"We sent the boys to check the girl's apartment," Lincoln informed her as she perched on the chair, nodding her head.
"Let them get their hands dirty for once," Gretchen continued.
Clara ignored them as Gretchen said how she thought this was an inside job, declaring how the man could read Scylla on the spot. She also said how she couldn't find him. Clara had shrugged, not entirely convinced before going into the kitchen and finding a bottle of water from the fridge, sipping on it and perching on the bar stool. It didn't take long before Self and Bagwell returned, complaining that they hadn't found anything.
"Listen, Linc," Self said. "We were having a conversation and we were thinking that you're not up for being in charge."
"Oh shut up," Clara complained, slipping from the stool and standing on the ground as she moved over to Self. "So, who is in charge, you? Yeah, because you're really someone who can lead."
"Want to put yourself forwards, little miss teacher?"
"I couldn't do any worse than you," Clara replied. "Besides, if this is a vote then you've only got two votes which isn't a majority. Did they not teach you math at the Academy or were you too busy learning how to stab people in the back?"
"I do like her," Bagwell said and Clara glowered to him.
"I've warned you," Lincoln said.
But before the argument could continue they heard the door move open. Pulling out their guns, Self, Lincoln and Bagwell stood in a line, aiming them at the door. Clara said nothing, keeping still before moving behind Lincoln. But then the figure made his appearance known and her eyes widened at the sight of who it was. Holding onto a duffel bag, he looked between them all before speaking.
"This a bad time?" he wondered.
Moving over to him, Clara didn't care who was watching as she moved with haste and he looked to her. He let his eyes roam over her before he dropped his bag and held his arms open, welcoming her into them as Lincoln watched on, noticing how Alex moved his hand to hold the back of her head, pressing her forehead against his shoulder as he let out a breath in relief at the feeling of her in his arms.
"I think it's a pretty good time," Lincoln answered, meeting Alex's gaze as they exchanged a nod between each other and then Lincoln demanded they get back to work, leaving Alex and Clara alone.
Moving with her, he kept her in his arms as he tugged her around the corner by the door, finally being able to press his lips to hers, kissing her as he pressed her against the wall, his lips moving over hers as her hands found the back of his head, her fingers twisting into his hair.
"I came here to help," Clara said when he pulled back and she felt as though she should explain herself to him. "I wanted to find Scylla…take it away…and free you."
"I know," Alex whispered, stroking her face.
"But what happened?" Clara wondered.
"I escaped," Alex said. "Lang let me go and I escaped. I…I went to the college where you work but they said you weren't working. I think you might be sacked, by the way."
"Meh," Clara shrugged.
"So I…I might have called Krantz and asked where Lincoln was, but he told me you were with him. I came as soon as I could."
"Thank God," Clara mumbled, bowing her head and resting her forehead on his chest. "I feel so out of place and I can't trust anyone…but I was going to do it for you…to help you."
"I know," Alex said, moving to kiss her once more. "But I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere. We're going to finish this and we're going to go…leave here and leave it all behind. You and me."
Nodding, Clara agreed with that, hand on his cheek before kissing him again.
…
A/N: Do let me know what you think!