Chapter 58:

A horn blared in the distance, or what seemed like a distance.

My eyes drifted open but I could only make out colored shapes around me. Everything else seemed blurry. My whole body felt….crunched.

Slowly, I started to regain my senses and realized I was thrown onto the dashboard when the car crashed. Broken glass was splayed out around me but I must not have impacted the car with enough force to fully eject me.

A groan escaped my lips as I tried to move any part of my body and was met with enough agony that white spots clouded my vision. I could have lost consciousness again at any moment so I remained motionless willing someone to help me. From my vantage point I didn't see or hear Michael, Sucre, or Tbag and had no recollection of what happened once the car sped off the road. The last thing I remembered was Tbag trying to attack Michael. Did he succeed? Is that why the car went off the road? Where were they now? Was anyone else seriously hurt, or worse?

No one knew I was here.

No one.

If the others were gone there was no way to know how long it could be before someone would be around to help, or who that exact help would be. It would be just my luck to have the Company track me down while I was in this condition, unable to properly defend myself.

My gun. I at least needed my gun in my hand so I stood some sort of chance to defend myself. I placed both of palms flat on the dashboard and pressed firmly pushing myself up, wincing when some of the broken shards of glass pressed into the skins of my hands. Then there was the searing pain that chipped away at my shoulder. Unfortunately for me, Mahone had kept the pain medication with him and I knew that I was risking permanent damage to my arm for not giving it the chance to properly heal.

More pieces of glass trickled out of my hair and off of my clothes the more I moved. Small cuts littered my skin up my arms, chest, neck, and face. One side of my head felt warm and wet, I knew it was blood. I must have hit my head on the glass, which knocked me out.

With one painful motion, I pushed myself off of the dash and fell half onto the seat and half onto the floor of the car. I cried out and was grateful that it didn't appear as though anyone else was around to witness. Everything was so sore and the wind was knocked out of me with nearly every movement. I spotted my bag underneath my leg on the floor. The only way I could move was biting my lip and using my foot to kick against the door until it opened. By the time it had, my foot felt like it was going to fall off.

The only bit of relief I felt was that my chest was no longer constricting itself and my breathing had resumed to normal. Now the only pain in my chest was from crashing into the dashboard, but at that moment it was preferred to the suffocating feeling from earlier. I had never experienced anything like that in my entire life and it was bizarre how it came out of nowhere. It probably had to do with my constant traveling without proper time to rest and the fatigue was starting to catch up with me. In fact, I could just rest my head against the seat and shut my eyes for a few minutes and know I would feel better.

My eyes bolted open. It had only been a few seconds but I could have remained there for days if I let myself. I had to get out of the car to gather my bearings to figure out what to do or where to go next. However, everything still felt weak, so I used my foot to loop through my bag and lifted it out of the car. Nausea rolled through my body as I prepared to push myself out of the car. As I did so and made contact with the ground, the car had crashed at an angle, and as a result I slid down the remainder of the ditch and finally came to a halt in the grass. Spots once more danced in my vision and the only muscles in my body I could move were clenching my fingers into the grass and dirt.

There was still no sign of anyone around at least from my new perspective. If the others had abandoned me here, my only other option was to call Mahone and have him get me, which would probably piss him off with Lincoln in tow. I could hear his degrading, annoying voice now lecturing on how I should have contacted him earlier when I first made contact. The thought of it made me make a face internally.

When the idea of moving an inch didn't make me feel like I was going to pass out, I slowly lifted my head and spotted my bag resting a few feet away from me about halfway up that ditch. All I had to do was gather enough strength to move in that direction and get a hold of it. The sound of grass and leaves crunching behind effectively distracted me from the task at hand. I was unable to turn my head in the other direction to see who or what was headed towards me, and whether they were friend or foe. The only thought that occurred to me was to lie perfectly still and appear as non-threatening as possible.

The individual moved closer and it was then that I caught the first glimpse of them, or rather their legs and feet. What I recognized and what stood out to me immediately was a pair of tacky and cheap sandals.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Tbag was like a roach. If there was somehow a nuclear disaster, I'm sure he would find someway to survive. I couldn't see his face, although he didn't look injured, adding insult to injury considering my own condition. He was so still, just watching me, and chills spread throughout my body. I hadn't forgotten how angry Tbag had been earlier and no doubt the resentment he still harbored for what went down between us. It was incredibly uncomfortable now to have him staring at me and wondering when he was going to snap and try to kill me since I was pretty much defenseless.

He turned his sandals away from me and the relief I felt was only temporary when I realized he was heading straight for my bag.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

The gun. The money. The phone. All of it was in that bag and I needed it. Tbag squatted to slip the strap over his shoulder and it was the first time we actually looked at each other. He seemed to take in my injuries, really scrutinizing all of my marks to a point it make me shudder as though he was seeing me from the inside out. He didn't appear outright angry, but that mattered little considering he could switch with the wind. There was almost a hint of concern there but it was hard to say what he was truly thinking.

Tbag stood up and approached me once more. I tried to move any body part to attempt some sort of defensive position, but to no avail. It felt as though cinder blocks were crushing every limb and there wasn't enough strength in the world to move them. Once he was closer, he knelt again directly in front of me. I couldn't look him in the eye and resorted to staring straight ahead at nothing.

Even staring at nothing, my eyes widened in shock when I felt Tbag's fingers on my cheek. They were cool to the touch and it wasn't an aggressive manner but a gentle one.

Tbag had cupped and was caressing my cheek. I didn't lean in and accept it but I didn't shrink away either, I was just sort of there. In my delirium and pain induced haze, the touch almost felt nice and relaxing to the point where I could have shut my eyes and slept. However, that was not going to happen and I wondered what Tbag's next move was going to be. His thumb slowly inched underneath my chin.

"Laneykins." He sighed.

Why did he sound so miserable? Defeated? He was the one with the upper hand in this situation. He almost looked teary-eyed.

"Maybe someday we can live in a world where our thoughts and feelings can be true and set us both free."

Great, now he was Tbag the philosopher.

Even though I wasn't sure I wanted to know, what were his thoughts and feelings and that he wanted to set free? Most of the time dealing with Tbag was much simpler when he was just trying to kill you. The attempts to be feeling and caring and not serial drove me to the brink of insanity. I must have twitched my nose as a reaction because Tbag tightened his pressure underneath my chin with his fingers. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but rather, to focus my attention so I finally had to look at him.

His eyes were ablaze and struck me speechless as the intensity of his stare burned right through me.

"You can fool yourself, but you can't fool me."

With that, he released my chin and moved quickly in the opposite direction of the road and the car. I finally took the opportunity to release a massive breath I had been holding. I should have felt a huge amount of relief that Tbag decided not to inflict any further damage, but those feelings were compounded by the fact that he stole my bag. I needed to get back up and follow him in order to try and get it back.

More footsteps sounded and Michael Scofield finally emerged. His eyes were set beyond me, clearly following where Tbag had just disappeared. Telling myself I could not just lie around any longer, I ignored the agony in my arms as I pushed myself to my knees looking squarely at Michael. When he finally looked at me, his eyes looked relieved that I wasn't grotesquely injured. He seemed to be fine as well, only a few scrapes and bruises amongst his face and arms.

We remained like that briefly looking at one another with many unspoken words between us. Tbag revealed much in that car before the wreck and it was clear that Michael sought answers from me. However, the urgency in his eyes also told me that those answers would have to wait because Tbag was the more pressing matter.

"Stay here and watch over Sucre until help comes for him." Michael finally spoke.

He didn't even wait for a reply before quickly moving past me and following in step behind Tbag. Now I felt the sense of urgency within my own gut for if Michael was able to get the better of Tbag, he could discover my phone and more importantly my work with Mahone who now had Lincoln as a captive.

That panic masked over any pain I felt as I pushed myself to my feet and looked around settling my eyes on where both Michael and Tbag had disappeared. A weak groan caught my attention and I finally saw what Michael had meant, Sucre was lying flat on his back and looked like he was knocking on death's door. He was clutching a deep wound in his side that couldn't have been caused by the car accident.

It was a stab wound.

I hurried over to Sucre, as fast as I could manage anyway, cursing Tbag for stabbing him, and stood before him. I was too scared to kneel next to him in case I couldn't get back up. I called out his name, but he didn't respond. I didn't necessarily want him to reply, I just wanted him to know I was here. In the distance I could hear a siren blaring and I wondered if they were headed in this direction. I turned my head back towards the direction where Michael and Tbag headed and hoped they hadn't gotten too big of a head start. I looked once more back at Sucre and hoped with every fiber of my being that he was going to be fine.

Guilt wound my stomach so tightly for I wanted nothing more than to sit with Sucre to make sure he would get the help he needed, but instead I turned my back on him and limped away for cover through the trees. I was moving blindly, no way of knowing where the hell Michael or Tbag had gone. I also hoped that my adrenaline would keep me moving and I wouldn't pass out where there was no way anyone would find me.

My injured arm was pretty much worthless dangling along my side. I was cursing myself over and over for leaving my sling in the States thinking I could do without it. To an unknown passerby, I probably looked like a deranged person, wandering in this wilderness in the state I was in. What kept me moving was my motivation to find Michael and Tbag.

Minutes dragged on, even though it felt more like hours and my body was only running on fumes at this point. I growled in frustration not allowing tears to form. They were likely far ahead of me and there was no way I was going to catch up. It was foolish for me to think I even had a chance of pulling this off. Since leaving Fox River, there was very little I had done right, and this was no different. All I wanted to do was sink down to my knees and wallow in my failure.

A scream echoed through the trees sounding only a few feet from where I currently stood. I waited straining to hear any other sounds that would help me move again. The scream wasn't clear, so I was unsure if it belonged to Tbag, Michael, or something else entirely. No other noises came, so I pressed on trying to find the source of the sound. It felt like I was wading through quicksand when I finally reached the clearing of the trees and spotted an abandoned shack.

I paused, holding my breath, knowing I had seen this movie before where someone crazy lived her and would try to eat me. And I was about to be that stupid girl in those movies that ignored all the obvious signs of danger as I wandered closer to the shack. The glass on the window of the front door was shattered, someone had definitely broken in. As I drew near, the door flew open and Michael emerged. I froze to the spot eyes glancing around looking for Tbag, but I didn't see him. Michael stared at me hard, but he didn't look angry, instead walked down the steps when I noticed that my bag was now slung across his shoulder.

So, he did confront Tbag? And he must have won because he had my bag with him. Confusion must have been plastered all over my face, but Michael didn't answer only continued to move away from the shack. He moved further away from the shack and I got closer. The door was barely swinging by its hinges and I pushed it open with my fingers. Crying could be heard on the inside and my jaw dropped to the floor when I finally found the source.

Tbag sprawled out on the floor with a knife jabbed into his hand, and not the fake one. It was stuck in there, he couldn't pull it out and couldn't move anywhere. He cried and whined trying to find some way to pull the blade out, but he couldn't. I wanted to run over there and help him, pull the knife out and make sure he was alright.

But I didn't.

I followed them over here to get my bag back and Michael had already done it for me. He didn't act like he would wait around for me either and he was the ultimate priority. I needed to turn my back and get out of here before Michael took off.

"Laney." Tbag whined.

My hand was resting on the door frame when I froze. His voice sounded so soft and pathetic. He was usually so in control of his situations and surroundings that hardly anything frazzled him, but it was clear that he was out of control and he was desperate for help. I immediately thought back to just after we had escaped Fox River and Tbag had lost his hand and I crawled to him to help. I squeezed the door frame tightly with my fingers wrestling with myself on what to do.

I couldn't tell myself that it didn't matter, that I didn't care because I did. I cared about all of them in their own way, and I kept getting myself into these situations because I felt this constant need to help them when asked.

"Laney….please." Came a whimper.

Tears threatened to form but I blinked them away. Why was he like this? Why did he do this to me? He was right, even though I hated to admit it. There was a lot that remained unsaid between us and someday it was all going to come out in the open.

Releasing my hand from the door frame, I exhaled a large breath.

And walked out the door without turning back.

Michael had walked further ahead, but not so far that I was unable to catch up. The discomfort my body was starting to feel from the exhaustion was worse than the initial pain from the accident to begin with. The blood on the wound from my head had started to dry and cake on my skin and hair. Wherever Michael was headed, I hoped there was some place where I could lie down or at least sit down.

For 12 hours.

I couldn't take my eyes off of my bag, but Michael kept a tight grip on the strap, so I didn't ask for it back for fear of raising his suspicions even more. We just walked in silence, the tension growing thick between us. I used to feel closer to Michael, we could talk freely with one another and I admired his determination to help his brother and friends, it felt like we always had that in common. But now, I was just reminded of everything that had changed since helping him, and he wondered if his trust in me was at all valid.

The trees and other brush started to thin out as the minutes dragged on and turned into a full fledged beach as we reached the ocean. I had no idea where the hell we were or out location in comparison to where Mahone was. And I wasn't sure how much longer my body could be pushed. My breaths were coming out in loud pants as we reached the dock where a boat was bobbing up and down gently in the water. I couldn't wait to rub it into Mahone's face later when I spotted the name of the boat, Christina Rose, on its side.

My momentary ego was burst when Michael climbed into the boat.

"Linc?" He called out, confused about the whereabouts of his brother.

I schooled my features to not give anything away too soon and thought about how I should approach this. I really didn't want Michael to find out on his own about Mahone's involvement or how I helped. Michael was pacing around the boat trying to figure out where Lincoln was and he slipped my bag off of his shoulder and rested it on the boat right as I had climbed in.

Then a phone started ringing. My eyes instantly darted to my bag, panicking that Mahone had called the phone he had given me but the sound wasn't coming from there. As it turned out, Michael had his own satellite phone and he fished it out taking a brief glance at the screen before answering.

"Linc." Michael said relieved.

"I'm sorry Michael." Was his only response.

Hello, Michael." Came the cool, calm voice of Mahone.

Michael's face quickly changed from relief, to confusion, to panic, to rage. His fingers tightened around his phone so tightly the screen could have shattered.

"If you touch my brother, you're a dead man." He seethed.

Mahone spoke, unfazed, "isn't it interesting that you have something I want when I have something that you want?"

"And what is it you want, Alex." Michael stated just as cooly.

"First things first, where is Laney?"

It was only at the mention of my name that Michael finally glanced in my direction. He had been so distracted by his conversation with Mahone that he didn't notice as I crept forward towards my bag and slip the gun into my stronger hand. When he finally remembered me and looked over, I was standing staring him down keeping the gun at my side, but ready to move if necessary.

"I'm here." I spoke without removing my stare with Michael.