This Is Their Story Chapter 4, a prison break fanfic

AN: And here's another one - I have had this story bouncing around my head for the past 10 years... it was bound to bubble to the surface at some point :)

A special thanks to Juneselene. Thank-you for being such a dedicated reader, not reading just one but two of my stories. I hope that would continue to enjoy them :D

Tension up to mark 4 - To all my readers, thank-you and enjoy.

Yuul x

Nicole quickly dropped to her knees. Nicole crawled as fast as she could from her living room into her bedroom. The moment she got in, she kicked the door behind her shut, right in the face of the blond man that was following her. She shifted from her hands and knees into a sitting position, placing her feet against the wardrobe and her back against the door, essentially wedging herself between the two. She only hoped it would stop the door from opening and the intruder from getting in.

"Miss Jones, open this door!" She could feel herself budge at the impact. He was using his shoulder as a battering ram. Her legs took the brunt of the strain, and she wondered whether they would take it if he hit much harder. "Don't make me hurt you"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" She screamed, spreading her fingers out on her carpet. Nicole thought that if she increased the friction over a larger surface area she'd have more of a chance of keeping the door shut. But it wouldn't help her for long.

"Just tell me where it is and no-one gets hurt!" He continued to barge the door. She had played her part in the barricade so well until she felt her knees buckle, leaving a small gap between the frame and the door accessible when he barged once more.

"Ha!" She heard him say, placing both hands around the door and pushing with all his might. She tried to push back, but she wasn't that strong. Before she knew it, she was staring up at the blond man, looking straight down the barrel of a gun, weeping as she awaited the inevitable.

Two days earlier

Alex couldn't help but feel a small sense of pride when Wheeler gave him the news about Scofield leaving a message on the pre-paid voicemail box they had been monitoring. His team was finally providing the key clues in this mystery that would help him solve it and get his own murderous tasks out of the way. It sounded just like the lead he needed as well. A mobile they could track and a real possibility of grabbing the brothers and crossing them off his hit list. This day was getting better and better.

That morning, he'd picked up an unlikely stray to accompany him on this adventure. He hadn't fought the idea of taking Nicole Jones out of the hospital as much as he probably should have, but the fact that her life was in danger changed things a little - that, and the fact that she allegedly had information about Scofield that he needed. Now. He hadn't exactly thought it through in its entirety of course, seeing as he had a lot of work to be getting on with and he couldn't exactly take her with him to the office - so the next best place was his home.

"Make yourself at home, but stay inside" he implored, placing a clean set of clothes out on the spare bed for her. They had been Pam's. "And please - " He added, grabbing hold of her arm to ensure she was looking in his eyes "Don't hurt yourself"

Although she had promised, well actually, scouts honour had been her term of phrase, not to hurt herself, his mind kept floating off to the image of her in the bathtub. He'd given her a cellphone and told her to call if she had any problems. Despite this gesture, he kind of hoped she didn't call- in the next few hours, he'd be closing in on the brothers, and he needed his faculties in tact and 100% focused to do that, and Nicole Jones was already proving to be a distraction.

They hadn't spoken much on the journey away from the hospital, but as Alex currently sat next to Wheeler in the car, following Scofield and Burrows represented by the red light on the GPS moving along Route 38, he found himself envisaging her sat beside him, lacing her hands nervously in her lap, sinking in her seat every time they reached a stop sign and the way she pushed her hair out of her face, and tucked it behind her ear…

His cell rang, distracting him from his distraction.

"Talk to me" He answered the phone. One of his agents informed him that a patrolman thought he had Sucre pulled over in Pennsylvania. He instructed the agent to advise local dispatch to apprehend Sucre and take him into custody alive, not in a body bag. Of course, he had use this term of phrase on purpose - he didn't want anyone to suspect that he really did want him in a body bag. He just didn't want Wheeler or the agent on the phone to think otherwise.

Sucre was almost in his grasp.

Wheeler noticed that the GPS showed that the brothers had stopped moving. Alex wondered who they were waiting for, and whether it had anything to do with the slightly ambiguous message Scofield had left on his voicemail earlier. He didn't have much of a chance to develop these thoughts as Wheeler began to have trouble navigating himself around the tractor that they had managed to get themselves caught behind. Alex had no such trouble.

His impatient nature meant that he immediately reached for the siren and shouted for his agent to make the sharp turns throughout the traffic - it was a code red - and he didn't care if the siren alerted the brothers. He needed to close the distance between them NOW!

What he hadn't expected was the fireball in the distance 30 seconds later. Wheeler put his foot down on the gas until they reached the bridge where he pulled up and jumped out of the car, cell to his ear calling the necessary people. Alex, followed suit, rushing to the side of the bridge, looking over at the fire pit below. He hadn't expected that, at all.

Late that evening he had arrived home, feeling terribly pensive and with the most intense headaches he'd had in a while. He was looking forward to standing under the scolding water in the shower and falling into bed, despite the fact he knew it would be anything but a sleep filled night. It had been one of the most straining, yet unproductive days he'd had in a long time and it just wanted it to be over.

His team had jumped to the very premature conclusion that Scofield and Burrows had been killed in crash and were too keen to announce it to the media. Alex, on the other hand, had implored that they run more tests. He needed to have infallible proof that they were dead before giving the other convicts any excuse to get smarter. He also didn't want to make the mistake of believing they were dead and The Company come down on him like a tonne of bricks. He didn't need to give them any more reason to pressure him.

The door closed behind him and proceeded to lock and bolt it, placing the chain across for safe measure. You could never be too sure. One he was happy that his door was suitably armed with security measures, he threw his keys into the bowl on the unit that lined one wall of the hallway, and pulled on his tie to loosen it and pull it over his head. Wrapping it around his hand, he kicked off his shoes and made his way into the living room, where he lay his tie on the back of one of the dining room chairs, upon which he then draped his jacket that he shook off his shoulders. He pulled his shirt out of his trousers, releasing the unnecessary tension and unclipped his holster, from his belt, chucking it onto the table along with his badge. He felt instantly lighter.

It was awfully quiet, he thought to himself. Alex looked around the living room with curious eyes. Nothing looked out of place at all. He doubled back into the hallway and leant upon the banister looking up to the second floor.

"Nicole?" He called out. She didn't reply. He listened out for any signs of movement, but the house was deathly quiet, like it had been every evening since his wife and kid left. You mean forced out, he thought, sardonically. You kicked them out. You made them leave.

Alex walked slowly up the stairs, knowing that on the landing he had another firearm were he to need it. He called out again, reaching the top of the stairs in no time, but there was no reply. Nothing. Had she left? He asked himself, checking all of the rooms upstairs. She was no-where to be seen. The clothes he had placed upon the bed in the spare bedroom remained untouched, and he began to doubt the veracity in her plea. Nicole had said she was in danger, and that in exchange to being discharged from the hospital and taken to a safe place, she would help in his investigation. But the moment he'd left the house, she'd probably left. He'd been taken for a fool.

Alex stood at the edge of the spare bed and huffed. He couldn't believe he'd trusted her, especially when there had been nothing to suggest that she was even a trustworthy individual. He'd let his guard down. He felt himself getting angry with his own stupidity and kicked the ottoman that was at the end of the bed. The fact he had no shoes on meant that his act was followed by a yelp of pain and frustration. How could he have been so stupid?

He violently tried to wipe the frustration from his face, turning on his heel and making his way downstairs. "I need a drink" he muttered to himself, deciding that it was best to nurse his bruised ego over alcohol. He entered the kitchen, ignoring the light switch as he began to unbutton his shirt, making his way directly to the fridge. And that's when he saw her.

Nicole was sat on the kitchen floor, her arms wrapped around her knees, head leant against the pane of the French doors that led out into the garden. It was such a curious sight. She was sat silently, looking longingly outside, not moving a muscle as he grew ever closer.

"Hey! Are you deaf?" The remnants of his frustration filtered into his words as he stepped towards her, re-buttoning his shirt. He didn't want to feel any more exposed than he already was. Her reaction to his question was curious. He saw her lips twist into a cheeky smile, similar to that of a child that had just been caught, which was answer enough. She'd simply decided not to answer him, which was just as annoying. "There are plenty of seats in the living room, you know" He added, flippantly, turning back towards the fridge. He opened it, allowing the beam of light to fill the kitchen for just a moment, before pulling out a bottle of beer and closing the door to the embarrassingly empty fridge.

"The chair was too heavy to drag" She finally turned to look at him, the light of the full moon reflecting off her blue eyes. She held her arms out in front of her, exposing the bandages that were wrapped around them. It probably hurt too much to move anything, he thought, opening the bottle and taking a tip. But why did she want to drag it to the kitchen anyway?

Alex began to feel his frustration ebbing into the abyss, partly due to the bubbled alcoholic beverage that was now trickling into his stomach and partly due to the most recent revelation. She hadn't left after all. He'd jumped to conclusions and for once, he had been wrong. He watched her hands caress her bandages until reaching her elbows, crossing her arms over her chest, looking back outside. She hadn't left.

"But that doesn't explain why you are sat on the floor of my kitchen?" He questioned, standing over her now, looking out over the garden. There was very little to see from where he stood, and for that he was grateful. His secrets were well buried in his garden, even if they were not in his mind.

"I just wanted to see the stars" He hadn't expected that to be her answer. He looked down at her and saw that she was now looking right up at him. "You asked me not to go outside, so - happy compromise" She pat the floor with her fingertips and all Alex could do was smile down at her, lost in her gaze once more.

Nicole Jones was not as he expected. He found her quite hard to read, if he was honest with himself. Her eyes spoke psalms of pain and fear, which accompanied by her defensive body language and sharp tongue, lead him to believe that she had not lived the most nurturing of lives. Much like him. But then there was that smile, the very smile that was beaming up at him now, that showed her heart was open and sincere. It was unusual for someone that had felt pain to be so open. He was confused, but then again, he was tired. He was probably reading her all wrong.

"Will you help me up?" She asked, outstretching her hands towards him "Currently losing feeling in my ass" She laughed, as did he, breaking his analysis of her, which was probably for the best. He didn't want to overstep his professional boundaries. She was a person of interest in an investigation, not a puzzle for him to solve. Yes. That's what he was going to tell himself.

He placed the bottle on the countertop and took hold of her hands. He lightly pulled her up, wary of her wounds.

"Thanks" She whispered, the moment she was on her feet. "For everything" she added, biting her bottom lip. Alex watched as she this, unable to place a finger on exactly why she did it. It was a text book sign of nervously, but she did not seem nervous at all.

"You're welcome" He breathed, unable to think anymore. "Umm - Would you like a drink?" He asked, pulling his hands delicately out of hers, realising how ironic the question was. He'd just established that their relationship was supposed to be investigator/investigatee and then he goes and offers her a drink? He decided to ignore his subconscious for now. He was too tired and his faculties were not available for rational thought.

"I probably shouldn't" She laughed as if there was an inside joke that he wasn't privy to, which caused his face to succumb to confusion. He was feeling this a lot lately. "I think I'll have a shower and go to bed"

"Alright"

She didn't move straight away, keeping him in the realm of confusion that had spawned the very moment he'd set eyes on her. He was glad for this, because there was little sound in this realm. It was quite, calm and somewhat comforting, but he knew that it wouldn't last forever.

"Good night, Alex" She finally spoke, breaking the comfortable silence, turning away from him.

"Good night, Nicole" He replied, watching her leave the kitchen then hearing her footsteps go up the stairs. "Wow" he whispered to himself, reaching out to pick up the bottle of beer, taking a sip while glancing outside at the stars.

Nicole woke up that morning feeling quite refreshed. Despite everything that had happened over the past couple of weeks, she had managed to push it into the deepest depths of her subconscious and slept like a baby. She turned to look at the digital clock that was conveniently set up on the bedside table and was surprised that it read 6:00. She'd never been an early riser, to the fact that she was pushing herself out of bed, donning the t-shirt and trousers that Alex had provided with no ounce of sleep within her was something new. Like this entire situation.

She opened the bedroom door slowly, listening to any signs that Alex may be awake. She could hear nothing. She stepped out onto the landing and looked out of the window next to the staircase. His car was still there. He was probably still asleep.

On tiptoe, she made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she searched the cupboards for coffee. The cupboards were bare of any food, just plates with matching bowls, some mugs, tumblers and wine glasses, and the coveted pot of ground coffee she pulled out. She proceeded to fill the percolator with water, adding two scoops of coffee and waited for the coffee to brew.

Five minutes later, she was stood, coffee cup in hand, in the small office downstairs into the basement. She'd figured that she should get acquainted with the house while Alex was asleep. To her surprise, the wall of the basement was covered with a replica of things she'd seen before. She perched on the desk, taking a sip of her coffee as she looked over the various plans and pictures Michael had once had pinned to his own wall.

She remembered showing up one day at his apartment unannounced and Michael practically pushed her out, shouting at her to never just turn up again. Had she known then what she knew now…

"You should change those you know" She had been so engrossed in the imagery, that she had not heard Alex come down the stairs. "The bandages, I mean" he added

"Yeah, I guess" She shrugged, not too bothered about them.

"Antiseptic cream wouldn't hurt either" He continued, causing her raise an eyebrow. She didn't make a comment, still engrossed in the imaged. She heard him shift from one foot to another, and she was sure the real burning question was about to come. And it did.

"How well did you know Scofield?" He asked

She turned her head to look at him, noting that he too was sporting a mug with coffee. "Thats a complex question" She answered, taking another tip of the liquid gold, warming her insides. She did love coffee.

"Thats not an answer" He stepped down the final step, and leaned against the doorless frame. He didn't seem to be annoyed that she had been snooping around him house or that she had stepped into the results of an on-going FBI investigation, which was something bewildered her. Had it been the other way round, she was sure she'd have been more than angry. Just like Michael. She sighed as she thought about how everything had turned out, and decided to answer Alex's question.

"Not as well as I thought" She spoke with such sincerity, she could see Alex was taken aback "This-" She pointed to the collage "This certainly isn't the Michael Scofield I knew"

She saw Alex open his mouth to continue his morning interrogation, but his cellphone rang.

"Yes" He answered, their eyes still locked. She smiled as he listened to the voice on the other end of the phone with only half his attention, the other half still actively analysing her. It was quite uncanny to see another man do this to her - The only other one she'd known to do that was the very man they had been talking about. Alex was quite similar to Michael, and it scared her a little.

"I'll be right there" He finished the conversation, snapping the phone shut with a loud click. "You going to be ok?" He asked

"Thats a complex question" She mimicked her previous answer, raising an eyebrow at him.

He smiled at her, taking a sip of his coffee before making his way up the stairs "And that's not an answer" She heard him say from the landing, causing her to smile.

The office was bustling with agents working on the manhunt. Alex was happy to see this as he walked into the field office. He needed everyone to focus 100% on this, especially when part of his brain was playing hooky.

"We've got something" Alex jumped at the chance to get his hands on another lead, and this time, it would be the start of something beautiful.

Local police had dragged the river near Scofield residence and found a hard drive with a serial number was one that corresponded with one Scofield had purchased. It was definitely his and he'd tried to get rid of it. This meant that what ever was on the disk would probably lead the FBI agent right to him.

Alex requested that all the files that were currently obtainable be printed and given to him immediately. He back into the open plan office to see Lang sat, looking through a load of files, scouring the information for anything that could be useful.

"Lang" He addressed her, walking towards her with long strides "The information you pulled from the visiting logs at Fox River, you highlighted three names. Veronica Donovan, Nika Volek and Nicole Jones"

"Yes sir, the only three people that came to visit Scofield."

"I need you to get me everything you can on all three" He ordered. "If they so much as looked at another person in the past three years, I want to know about it" He turned his back to her to walk back to the intel guy who he could see was holding the print outs he'd requested.

"But sir - " She tried to protest, but

"Yesterday, Lang" He shouted, leaning into the surveillance room, grabbing the pieces of paper from the guys hand without a word. He needed to find out everything he could about the woman he was harbouring in his home, and this was the easiest and more efficient way of doing so, and it ensured that no-one could connect any unwanted dots.

Nicole had agreed to discharge herself from the hospital. Despite the protocols that came with suicide victims, the nurse had surprisingly agreed to turn a blind eye, stating "i'm happy because she'll have you to look over her" Even though there was no paperwork that had his name on it, he just wanted to make sure that everything seemed to be by the book, and asking Lang to do the digging might just mitigate that. Who knows, maybe he'd find out why she was in danger - or find some information that would help him get her to reveal Michaels plan. Either way, it was more effective than asking her. This way, he'd know the facts.

Alex pushed that task aside, and looked down at the print outs, realising he held three very notable pieces of information in his hand. Three articles. One about Sara Tancredi. A second about DB Cooper and a third about Abruzzi, with one name circled.

"Fibonnaci" He whispered, pinning it to the board underneath Abruzzis photo.

"Wheeler!" Alex shouted, causing the blond agent to jump a mile. He hadn't realised he was next to him "Put this out on the wire" He pointed at the name that was circled "Pull in what ever favour you need to, make any deal you can, just find me someone in Abruzzis network that can place Fibonnaci in a location of your choice"

"Honey Trap sir?" Wheeler asked, a proud smile on his face.

"Honey trap - now go." He pat Wheeler on the back, happy to have such a competent agent by his side. He watched as Wheeler grabbed the phone on his desk and began to set the trap up, giving Alex enough time to look over the articles ones more, realising to how much detail Michael Scofield had really put into this whole thing, and it was all on the hard drive his guys were repairing. Whether or not they'd retrieve any more data remained to be seen, but one this was for sure. He was going to get Abruzzi today.

The sofa Nicole found herself sat upon was not as comfortable as it looked. It felt like it had been over used, despite its pristine appearance. It was something that she had noticed about most of the house. Everything was perfect, like no-one lived there at any point. Even the towels in the bath room were folded to such perfection it looked like they had never been touched. Yet, there was something about the house that looked like it had been lived in for years and years, by more than just a bachelor.

Nicole had taken the opportunity to continue to snoop around the pristine house the moment Alex had left that morning. With her new found energy, she wanted to know who the man that had saved her life really was. Her first assessment was that he was a neat-freak, much like her. Even his shoes were perfectly polished in the base of his built-in wardrobe. He was probably a military man, she thought, as she noticed the perfectly kept laces woven in the various pairs of similar black shoes, reminding her of how well kept her fathers shoes had been.

"Your feet take you everywhere. You have to treat them with respect, and there is no greater respect than perfection!" He used to say. She smiled at the memory, before continuing her own investigation.

Her second assessment was that he was probably divorced or, at least, separated. This came from the fact that the wardrobe was only half full, the clothes she was now wearing certainly didn't belong to Alex, and there was a picture of a small boy on the bedside table in the master bedroom. Sure, it might not be his son, maybe a nephew, or it was his son and just born out of wed-lock, but Alex didn't seem that type of guy. He seemed like a guy who would want to do things right. Marry a woman he loved then bring a beautiful child into the world and into a loving home, or at least thats what her senses were saying.

Her third assessment was that he was probably hardly ever at home. The fridge was perfectly clean and almost empty. All that could be found within it was 5 bottles of beer and a pint of milk. She raised her eyes at her fourth assessment. Alex Mahone seemed to live on a liquid diet. She'd already noticed the cupboards were bare. Except the office in the basement, there really was nothing noteworthy. Alexander Mahone was quite a mystery.

After an unsuccessful snooping session, she'd decided that if she was going to act in accordance with Alex's two rules of "Don't leave" and "Don't hurt yourself", she'd have to distract herself with something. Thus, the TV became her companion, and lucky too - they were covering the Fox River 8 story, and she was interested in their latest coverage.

According to reports, there had been no sign of any of them since their escape. The began running a summary background report on each of the escapees before showing a recording of the FBI press conference that had taken place just hours after the escape. Nicoles eyes widened as she recognised the agent in charge of the investigation. Just as he was about to speak, she heard the sound of a cell phone ring. It took a moment before she realised it was the one Alex had provided her the day before. She jumped from the sofa and walked over to the hallway where she'd left it and pressed to accept the call as she walked back into the living room.

"Hey" She answered, grabbing the remote and muting the TV, images of the very man she was talking to still upon the screen

"Hey" He replied quietly "How you holding up?"

"Good" She replied simply. There really wasn't much more she wanted to add to that statement. She was breathing, which was more than she had expected. She contemplated telling him that she knew who he was, but she chose against it. That mornings mini interrogation had shown her that his interest in keeping her safe was to obtain information about Michael. The less he knew she knew the better. "You?" She asked, opting for the safer option. She pulled her feet up, making herself as comfortable as she could on the sofa. She missed lounging around in her own apartment, on her own comfortable sofa, in her own clothes…

"I have to fly out to Washington" He spoke, obviously avoiding her question regarding his well-being, bring her straight back to the present.

"Alright" She replied, that one word laced with a question. Why was he going to Washington?

"I'll be back tonight though" He wasn't gong to elaborate, that much was obvious.

"Alright" She repeated, in much the same questioning tone.

There was a long pause. Nicole took the opportunity to grab the remote and put the subtitles on the screen. She read as he drew a comparison between John Wilkes Booth and the escaped convicts. He spoke about the journal Booth had written in the 12 days he was on the run.

"Ummm - " She had almost forgotten she was on the phone to him, jumping slightly at the sound of his voice breaking the silence "my card is in the kitchen draw. Get food it you'd like" She knew that to be true, as she'd already looked in the kitchen draws. She'd also found a loaded gun, a Fixation Bowie combat knife and his passport. She wondered how he was going to fly without it, but simply concluded that it was work related. He probably didn't need it if he was flying with the FBI.

"Geez, thanks" She laughed at his kind gesture, her eyes now fixated on the sight of Michael and Lincoln mug shots on the screen. At least if Mahone was going to Washington, it would have nothing to do with them - Michaels plan did not include a trip to the capital.

"Wouldn't want you to starve" She could hear his smile in his words now, which surprisingly made her feel much better. "See you tonight?"

"I'll be here" She assured him before he hung up without another word bringing her straight to her fifth assessment. Alex Mahone did not do well with talking.

She turned the sound back on to hear Mahones concluding that the fundamental mind of the escape man had not changed since Booth had been caught, and that this would help him catch them, along with the use of the media. Nicole felt her lungs constrict as he asked everyone in the country to take a look at the mug shots, deeming them the most wanted men in America, imploring that they come forward with any information they had.

"Where are you Michael?" She whispered, feeling despair at the fact that she certainly wasn't the only one asking themselves that question.

The hours past and the nerves from her own paranoid state had become something that was too much for her to bare. The television was proving to be a fickle friend as it constantly reminded her of their plight. Michael and Lincoln were on the run and she had no idea what she could do to help them. She sat, biting the material at the end of the sleeves rocking back and forth the uncomfortable sofa she'd been sat on for hours. She needed to do something. And she needed to do it now.

In one of the draws in the kitchen, she'd seen a business card for a taxi service. She dialled the number, pre-paid using Alex's credit card and found herself around the corner from her apartment just twenty minutes later.

"Can you wait here to take me back?" She asked the driver, who nodded. She thanked him before exiting the vehicle and walking around the corner to her apartment block.

She didn't know what she was going to find, but the USB stick Michael had given her was still hidden inside the present he'd sent her for her birthday. Maybe there was something on it that would tell her how to contact him at least.

Taking the spare key from underneath the flower pot beside her front door, she entered her apartment quickly. She really hoped that she could go in, get the thumb drive and be back at Alex's apartment before his flight landed and she had to explain why she'd gone home. He was searching for them too - and if he ever found out the extend of what she knew...

She rushed along the corridor and into the living room where she stood dead still in shock. The place had been trashed.

"Oh no" she whispered to herself, realising that they were probably behind this. Her suspicions were confirmed just seconds later when she heard the sound of her door open behind her and unwanted footsteps make their way down the corridor.

"It wasn't smart of you to come back, Miss Jones" She heard a voice say.