Disclaimer: I don't own Prison Break.

This will have some Mi/Sa in a couple chapters, as well as Lincoln/Kate.

As of now, there were 85 hits for the previous chapter, and not one review. That's just sad, people. I know you can do better! Please review!

A word about the rating of this chapter: This chapter contains a scene of attempted rape. I don't think that it's that bad, but different people are affected differently. Viewer discretion is advised.

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T-Bag laughed. "He wouldn't have shot me anyway, Lovely. This 'un ain't a killer." He said. Lincoln sent a dark glance towards Michael. "But her calling your bluff does rather ruin your plan, doesn't it?" T-Bag asked.

Lincoln dropped the weapon and punched T-Bag. "Where's the god damn money?" Lincoln yelled. T-Bag rolled off the chair and away from the older brother.

"Now, now, violence is never the answer." T-Bag said, coming to stand next to Kate. He felt his jaw gingerly where Lincoln had hit him. "I appreciate that tip all the same, Lovely." T-Bag added, in a softer voice. Kate nodded in acknowledgment, uneasy.

"T-Bag. Give us our share of the money, or I'm calling the police. I don't know who owns this house, but I've an idea what you did to them." Michael said, voice dangerously low. The situation was getting out of hand. T-Bag looked at first one brother, then the other, then at the Puerto Rican, before looking at Kate again, clearly trying to decide what to do.

"I'm a reasonable gentleman." T-Bag said, sensing that this was not a fight that he could win. "The money's in the livin' room." Lincoln grabbed T-Bag roughly, and forced him to show them the location of the money. T-Bag pulled it out from under the couch, and handed them each a large stack of bills. "Your shares." He spat, dropping the stacks on the floor. Michael picked them up, and handed one to Sucre and Lincoln. "Am I free to go enjoy my freedom yet?" T-Bag asked.

Michael glanced at him. "If you want a share, you're staying until we count all of this." T-Bag began to protest, but then thought better of it. He knew he was a dead man if he ran out of money down the road.

Michael, Sucre, and Lincoln sat down on the floor and began counting the money, to ensure that T-Bag had given them equal shares of it. Kate was perched on the armrest of an armchair, and T-Bag lingered nearby. The Southern man crept towards the doctor. "Why don't you follow me for a moment, Lovely?" T-Bag asked softly, in her ear. She turned towards him, puzzled. "I got somethin' to show you." He added. "Let's get away from these bastards who so clearly don't value you." Kate glanced at the men on the floor, who were too absorbed in their task to pay attention to their conversation. Then the blonde woman nodded, and stood and followed T-Bag to the back of the house. He led her to a room in which the only light came from the moon through an open window. A bed and dresser were dimly illuminated, but nothing else could be seen.

Michael watched the man and woman exit the living room. He shrugged; what did he care if T-Bag didn't want his money? It wasn't as though they needed the doctor anymore either; if they wanted to leave, that was their choice. Although, Michael thought, I wouldn't willingly go anywhere alone with T-Bag.

"Kneel down on the floor here, Lovely." T-Bag said, sitting down next to the dresser. Kate followed suit. "We don't want them to overhear our… discussion." He added, turning on the nearby radio loudly. Country music began to play loudly.

Lincoln glanced up. "Do you hear that?" He asked his brother and Sucre.

Both were silent for a moment, before nodding. "D'you think we should make sure everything's okay?" Fernando asked, making a doubtful face.

"Let's just keep counting." Michael suggested. "The sooner we get out of here, the better."

"What do you want to discuss?" Kate asked loudly, over the sound of the music.

T-Bag's eye twitched again. "Well, of course," He said, inching closer to her. "I want to talk about you, Lovely." Kate crawled slowly backwards, until her back hit a wall.

"What's to discuss?" She asked sharply.

T-Bag gave a smile that sent shivers up her spine. "Everything." He replied. "Those men abducted you, didn't they? They threatened to hurt you if you didn't cooperate, didn't they?" Kate nodded tenatively, staring at the man in front of her. "Ol' Teddy can make it better." T-Bag added slowly, gesturing at himself. "He always can." He said, placing his hands loosely on her arms. She tensed, as the Southern man kissed her on the lips, ignoring her protests. Kate managed to get one arm free, and slapped T-Bag as hard as she could. He grinned insanely. "Feisty, eh?" T-Bag remarked, tightening his hold. He kissed her harder now. She squirmed and tried to cry out, attempting to get him to stop, but to no avail.

"You'll come to appreciate me before the end, Lovely. They always do." T-Bag said, forcing her to the floor. He straddled her, and kissed her repeatedly on the lips, muffling her protests. The criminal lifted her navy blue T-shirt over her head, and lifted up the bed skirt and tossed the shirt under. Underneath the bed, Kate swore that she saw a lifeless body. She screamed, over and over again until T-Bag kissed her again. "You think someone's gonna hear you, Lovely?" T-Bag panted, pausing to take off his own shirt. "They won't hear nothin', not over that radio." He added. T-Bag planted a chain of kisses down her jaw, neck, to her collarbone, and slowly moving lower. Kate used this opportunity to scream as loudly as she could, praying that someone, anyone would hear her.

Outside in the living room, Lincoln had stopped counting again. "You ain't never going to finish your stack if you don't keep counting." Sucre remarked, already halfway through his pile of cash.

Michael glanced up at his brother. Clearly Lincoln thought something was wrong. Michael started to say something to Lincoln, but the older man silenced Michael with a hand. Michael and Sucre had taken a break from counting too now, listening. All was silent.

Abruptly, a sound that was undeniably a scream pierced the quiet before fading away into a sob. Lincoln was on his feet before the other men had set their money down, running towards the back of the house.

T-Bag started kissing Kate again, who sensed that this time he was more serious. He was moving his hands all over her, despite her constant attempts to break free. Suddenly the door was flung open. T-Bag turned around furiously, and leapt to his feet to face the intruder, while Kate quickly crawled away from her assailant. Lincoln was on T-Bag before the latter had a chance to lift a finger to defend himself. Lincoln hit T-Bag again, and again, not stopping when T-Bag's nose began to bleed, nor when his own fist cracked open.

Michael and Sucre finally pulled Lincoln off T-Bag when it became clear that T-Bag was unconscious. As much as they all disliked the con, it would only be bad for them if he died. Lincoln, after initially fighting his friends' efforts, slumped against a wall, breathing heavily. Upon seeing that Lincoln had calmed down a bit, Sucre and Michael went back to the living room to finish the job so that they could leave T-Bag behind as quickly as possible.

Lincoln shut his eyes for a moment, thinking. He couldn't keep losing his temper like that; if he didn't, someone else was likely to end up dead, and he didn't think he could handle another murder on his head. If only people wouldn't piss him off so, it would be a lot easier. Gradually, Lincoln became aware that Kate was huddled in a corner, tears streaming down her face, silent except for the occasional sob that she couldn't suppress. Lincoln stared at her for a moment, before glancing at his hand, which was still bleeding slowly, and standing up.

Despite the fact that she was their captive and that she had caused them nothing but problems since she saved Sucre's life, Lincoln couldn't help but feel sorry for the doctor. After all, if it hadn't been for them, she would never have been in this situation. "Are you okay?" Lincoln asked, in tone that was neither harsh nor exceptionally gentle. A sob was the only answer he received; it was the only answer she was capable of giving right then. Lincoln slowly stepped towards her, approaching her the way one would approach a wild animal. When he was about two feet away, he stopped and extended his hand to her. She hesitated, then placed her hand in his. As Lincoln pulled Kate to her feet, she completely broke down. She began to cry hysterically, so Lincoln pulled her in close to him. Kate clung desperately to his shirt, while he rubbed her back with one hand, the other supporting her head slightly. He could feel every sob that wracked through her body, every shaky breath she took. Lincoln tried not to think about the fact that she was topless, except for her bra. It wasn't as though he liked her like that. It wasn't as though he liked her at all.

Slowly Kate calmed down; her sobs slowed, and she began to remember that Lincoln was her captor, not her friend. As much as she needed a friend right then, he was not it. He was a big part of the reason she was in this mess. Kate stepped backwards, away from him, and began hunting for her T-shirt. Lincoln watched for a few seconds, before joining in the search.

Michael opened the door a moment later. "Linc… we're finished. We need to get out of here." He said, softly. Lincoln turned to him and nodded. Michael walked back out to the living room.

"I-I can't find my shirt." Kate stammered, kneeling on the floor.

Lincoln turned towards her. He slowly shrugged off his jacket, and unbuttoned his shirt, careful not to get blood from his knuckles on it. "Here." Lincoln said, tossing the shirt to the doctor. She quickly put it on as Lincoln pulled on his jacket back on. He held out a hand to help her up, but Kate ignored it and stood on her own. She led the way out of the room, intentionally trodding on T-Bag's false hand as she went.

As Lincoln followed Kate back out to the living room where Michael and Sucre were waiting, he realized that his shirt came down to the woman's mid-thighs. He smiled faintly; the shirt was way too big for her. How had he never noticed before that the top of the doctor's head barely even came to his shoulder?

Michael glanced at Lincoln as they walked into the living room, silently wondering why she was wearing his shirt. Lincoln met his brother's gaze, and shook his head slightly to indicate that he didn't want to talk about it right then. Michael shrugged, and led the way back out to the car.

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Adam looked at the clock in his pick-up truck. 9:22. Kate had been missing for almost twenty-four hours. He pulled his keys out of the ignition, got out, and started walking towards the entrance to the police station, trying not to think about all the statistics that said that after twenty-four hours, the victim was usually dead.

"Can I help you?" The woman behind the desk asked Adam when he walked in.

"Yeah, I think so." He replied, softly, eyes full of unshed tears. "My fiancé is missing."

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