Michael's dorm was dark and cold. As he stepped into the unlocked house he figured the rest of his dorm mates were at the party. His jaw clenched at the thought of what had just happened and how it had happened. He should of known about the party. He should have been there. He should have stopped this from happening.

Michael never let go of Sara until he reached his room. The door was unlocked, a sign of his trusting and foolish nature. He struggled to push the handle downwards, freeing the latch from its hole in the frame. The door creaked open, swinging loosely on the frame to reveal the unmarked stairwell. Michael navigated the stairs in the darkness, placing each step lightly to the wooden steps so as not to wake Sara in his arms.

He had already decided the couch was not worthy of Sara and headed straight to him bedroom. Sara was motionless in his arms but the gentle rise and fall of her chest indicated her steady breathing. Michael leant carefully to one side at the edge of his bed, positioning Sara in his arms so that she was lying with her head over his shoulder like a baby. With one swipe, he threw back his masculine blue covers and gently set her down.

Sara stirred gently in protest as Michael pulled his arms free from her body. She shivered a little before he pulled the comforter back over her, covering her entire body up to her neck. A small groan escaped her lips as she turned over and Michael could swear she had called for him. Leaving her was the hardest thing he could ever of done under the circumstances but he had to call someone. He should call her father.

Michael backed out of the room, never taking his eyes from her tired form snoring softly in his bed. He pulled the two wide sliding doors together, each rattling across the runner as sound ricocheted through his room. Michael pulled his face into a winch as they moved, shooting a glance through the gap between the doors as it grew smaller, making sure she was not disturbed.

Michael rubbed his hands nervously on his thighs as he stared at the telephone numbers scrawled onto a piece of paper before him. It was the piece of paper Frank Tancredi had given him that day they collided in the street. It was a direct link to Governor Tancredi. Michael exhaled hard. What should he say? How should he say it? A part of Michael blamed himself for Sara's ordeal. He should have been there.

Michael coughed quietly and reached for the cordless phone that sat on his kitchenette counter. He dialled the number on the piece on the piece of paper and froze. His finger hovered above the green button that would call the Governor. He took in one last breath and pressed down. Pressing the phone to his ear he grew more anxious with every ring.

A click signified the call connecting. "Governor Tancredi's office, how may I help you?" a tired woman's voice droned down the line.

"Hi, uh, is the Governor free? It's urgent," Michael whispered, shooting a glance at the bedroom doors as he paced the tiled floor.

"May I ask who is calling and the purpose of your call?" the woman was typing and Michael could hear the tapping of her keyboard as she furiously attacked the keys.

"Yeah, it's Michael Scofield," he began, scratching the back of his neck. "It's regarding his daughter," he finished.

"Please hold," the robotesque woman said before her voice was replaced by intermittent beeping. Michael crept to his bedroom door and pulling one open to see Sara. She was lying with her legs tucked up against herself in the foetal position and her face twitched with dream activity.

The beeping stopped and the woman returned to the line. "Please hold for Governor Tancredi," she droned and the line clicked again.

"Tancredi," Frank's voice sounded annoyed and the sound of music filled the background. Michael heard glasses clink together and people laughing. He figured it was another fund raiser or Governor's ball that Sara was never invited too. Michael cleared his through before speaking again.

"Sir, It's Michael Scofield. We had an accident once," Michael's voice rose slightly, almost as if questioning the Governor's memory. Frank sipped a glass of champagne absently.

"I know who you are," he told Michael in a discourteous tone. Michael shrugged it off and proceeded.

"It's about Sara…" he began but was cut off when Frank let out a long, exaggerated sigh. Michael sensed he was a little drunk.

"Look, you call me at…" Frank lifted his sleeve to look at his watch. "1AM about my daughter?"

"Yes…" Again he overlooked the urgency in Michael's voice and cut him off.

"This is a very important event Mr. Scofield," Frank told him, urging him to hurry with his words.

"I understand that but Sara is here. With me," Michael almost said the last words as a cough. The Governor went silent and his eyes narrowed. Sara should have been in bed, not with the man she was not allowed to see.

"And why would that be?" Frank remained calm although his irritation was evident on his voice. Michael ran his fingers through his hair, unsure where to start.

"There was an incident at a party she went to. She was drugged and a college student attempted to rape her," Michael didn't know how else to put it. The truth would always set you free he was told. He should of known better.

"Why were you there?" Frank questioned irreverently, seemly more opposed to him around his daughter than anyone else.

"I'm sorry?" Michael blinked in disbelief. "Did you hear me?" he asked raising his voice a little.

"Oh I heard you," Frank assured him. "I'll be sending a car to get Sara within the hour," and with that the line went dead. Michael pulled the phone from his head and stared at it amazed. How her father was so blind he didn't know. Shocked, he pressed the red phone to end the call and slammed it back onto its cradle on his counter top.

"Michael?" a small voice croaked from his bedroom. Michael's head snapped towards the room and he darted around furniture to get there. He pulled one door aside and saw Sara sitting on his bed, her hair still ruffled and unkempt, and her face confused. "Where am I?" she asked him with a frown as he made his way to her side.

"At my place," he told her taking a seat on the edge of the bed beside her. Sara looked around the room, taking everything in. It was dark with a very small window and the air was so cold her breath condensed when she exhaled. Everything was dark blue apart from some small furniture but that was a dark stained wood.

"Why?" her head rolled back to his, their eyes meeting. He was scared to tell her what had happened when it was clear she didn't remember. She had a right to know and Michael took one of her hands, pressing it firmly between both of his. "Michael, what is it?" she asked clearly worried when his gaze dropped to the ground.

"You don't remember?" he asked her to make sure. Sara shook her head.

"No, but you're scaring me," she confessed. "Is it my father?" her eyes stung with tears as she prepared herself for his answer. Michael brought his head up to look into her watery eyes once more.

"No," Michael soothed shuffling closer to her and flashing her a pathetic smile. "No, he's fine," he nodded.

Sara's head felt like it was going to explode and her eyes were heavy. She fought to keep them open and focused on Michael's worried features. Michael reached out a hand and rested it to her cheek, waking her from her desperately needed sleep. Her eyes flickered open and she smiled, leaning into his hand. Michael brushed his thumb across her cheekbone and was about to speak when a knock at his door stopped him.

"I'll be right back," he told her, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing the soft skin. As he left Sara she swung he legs over the edge of the bed and planted her feet shakily onto the floor. Her feet felt like lead as she dragged them to the bedroom door to see who was at Michael's dorm room door. She heard voices as she approached and rested a hand lightly to the wood, straining her ears to listen.

Michael pulled the door open and set eyes on two of Chicago's finest. "Mr. Scofield?" One officer asked him reading from notes in his tiny notepad. He was a big guy, at least six foot five and had a goatee and a beer belly.

"Yeah?" Michael answered with a puzzled expression.

"Michael Scofield?" the other officer asked. Michael gaze jumped between the two men. The second officer was about the same height as the first but he was slimmer and more muscular. His biceps bulged beneath his long sleeved black shirt as he shifted on the spot.

"Yeah?" Michael repeated to the second officer as Sara appeared behind him. The officers gazes flew over Michael's shoulder and took in Sara's dishevelled appearance, uneven clothing and drowsy state. The second officer reached behind him and unhooked a set of handcuffs.

"Michael Scofield, you're under arrest for the statutory rape of Sara Tancredi…" he began, stepping into the room and pulling Michael's hands behind his back.

"What? I didn't rape Sara," his eyes fell upon her stunned face before he realised he hadn't told her what really happened. She stepped back in horror, her eyes wide and her hand covering her mouth. "Sara, no…" he objected to her expression as the officer turned him and lead him from the room. "Sara this is wrong!" he called over his shoulder as he disappeared from her view.

"Please come with me Sara," the first officer shook her from her horrific daydream with his deep voice. Sara looked to his extended hand and took it in shock as he guided her from Michael's dorm. A group had formed outside as Michael was placed into one patrol car and Sara was placed into another.

A female officer accompanied Sara while the two male officers escorted Michael from the campus in their car. One reached for his radio on his shoulder, pressed in the button and called in the arrest.

"Michael Scofield is in custody. Please stand by".