The once quiet room was filled with painful cries and incoherent chatter from Dr. Tancredi and the three guards that had half-carried/half-dragged Michael in. I was soon forgotten and pushed towards the barred window where I watched stunned as Michael rocked forwards and backwards, his blood hands were shaking as they cradled his left foot which had been wrapped in a blood soaked rag. Michaels face was scrunched and was covered in sweat and tears, his bottom lip quivered each time he took a gasping breath.

I stood on the balls of my feet, mentally urging to gather all the supplies she needed. She had already gave Michael something for the pain, but from the way Michael looked it seemed like it would be a few minutes before it kicked in. My thumb began its therapeutic routine, a pathetic attempt to help me calm my nerves and keep my heart from beating out of my chest.

The C.O's stood awkwardly by the door as they waited for Dr. Tancredi to give them another set of instructions. They glanced from Michael and then to each other, and when Dr. Tancredi sternly told them to leave they gave a shrug before slipping through the door.

"Michael?" Dr. Tancredi's hands were touching Michaels which were still holding onto the rag. Michael glanced towards Tancredi but ignored her questioning gaze. "Michael, I need to know what happened."

Michael took a deep breath before he let out a hissing sound when Tancredi tried to pull the rag away. "Nothing.. It was nothing." Michael groaned out.

"Sully?" Dr. Tancredi called my name and I slowly pulled myself towards the small bed that Michael was on. His blue eyes snatched my gaze when he heard my name, surprise flickered across his face before he turned away from me. Tancredi nodded her head towards Michael's hands indicating that she needed some help. Slowly I reached down and gently pulled Michael's hands away.

I was about to place them on his chest when his fingers intertwined with mine and tightened when the cool air swept across his wound. He hissed softly and leaned away from Dr. Tancredi.

"Shh, it's okay." I whispered to him. His blue eyes looked up at me and I tried to give him a reassuring smile but it was hard to think when all I could think about was how perfect my hands looked wrapped around his.

"Stop it, Sully!" I scolded myself. It was beginning to get annoying how easily I melted around Michael, especially when he was panting in pain.

"Michael?" I was taking a shot at asking him questions, hoping that he had some faith in me. "Who did this?"

I waited as another wave of pain rolled through Michael. "It was nothing." Again Michael mumbled out the same response.

"This isn't nothing! You can tell me." I pleaded.

"Please... don't make me lie to you." And with that Michael slipped into unconsciousness.

...

It wasn't until the next morning that I saw Michael. He had missed the vomit-inducing breakfast but was limping around the lot, raking up the fallen leaves. It was clear he was still in pain from the way he used the rake as a cane as he slowly moved around the small area, but he often took small breaks to talk to the man who was placed far from the other inmates. His tan jumpsuit stood out, it wasn't the standard prison clothes that were worn by everyone else.

I watched with some interest from across the yard, where a solitary picnic table had been placed. The conversation between the two was discreet and they pretended to be doing something else whenever a C.O. happened to walk by. I focused on the one in the tan jumpsuit, his stern face was familiar and it was starting to irritate me when I couldn't remember when I had seen him.

My fingers softly thumped against the wood table as I focused on him when all of the sudden ti clicked.

He was the one who killed the President's brother. Lincoln Burrows; the most hated man in America.

What was Michael doing talking to him?

I sat there in silence as I tried to put the pieces together but it was useless, when it came to Michael nothing made sense.

I removed my gaze from the limping fool and instead stared at the small picture that was in front of me. Large, green eyes stared back at me along with a beautiful, toothy grin. I smiled softly as I memorized every curl that was on the little girls head, every freckle that was careful placed on her nose. The emptiness inside me grew stronger and I could feel my throat tighten from the buildup of tears. My fingers softly traced the oval face of my daughter.

"Who is she?"

A soft voice broke through my clouded thoughts, jerking me back to reality. I pulled the picture away and slipped it into my shoe, away from the prying eyes.

I glanced up and saw a smiling Michael. I ignored the question and the questioning gaze and instead focused on him. He grimaced as he slowly sat down in front of me. I could see sweat starting to collect around his hairline and his face was becoming a little paler.

"How's the foot?" I asked. Michael grimaced as he shifted his weight before he shrugged, "It's okay."

"You are terrible at lying." I chuckled.

"So I've been told." Michael smiled. The atmosphere became quiet as the two of us returned back to our thoughts. My eyes started to roam when I heard the sound of wolf-whistling. It wasn't the first time that day but each time I always found myself glancing around to see who it was. This time it was a older man on the bleachers. His eyes gleamed when we made eye contact and I watched in disgust as his tongue slowly flicked across his bottom lip. My stomach tightened as his eyes roamed every inch of my body. The man who was clutching his pocket which had been pulled inside-out glared at me and tried to get his "friends" attention.

"Don't worry about him."

I turned my gaze back to Michael who was glaring at the sleazy looking man. "He's more bark than bite."

It was sweet of him to try to ease my fears but I knew that Michael was lying.

"Oh." I whispered. I I glanced toward T-Bag and was met with the same cold eyes, only this time they were bright with anger. Instead of staring at me, he was focused on Michael.

"I don't think he likes you." I said. Michael looked over his shoulder and shrugged softly. "The feeling is mutual."

Michael smiled again, but this time it was a forced. His long fingers tapped against the picnic table in a rhythmic pattern. I watched his fingers dance for a few seconds and returned back to his eyes. He was looking behind him again only this time he was staring at an older man. His greasy hair was past his neck and was pulled tightly against his head. He too was surrounded by men, they all were staring at Michael.

I watched uncomfortable as a silent conversation was exchanged the two.

"You need to be careful."

Michael snapped his gaze back to me and I froze. I shifted and cleared my throat softly. I could feel my thumb rub my palm which eased my heart a little.

Michael raised an eyebrow at me in question and I continue, "I know that I've only been here for a day, but I can already tell that you have two pretty dangerous people who have it out for you."

My voice fell into silence as I waited for Michael to say something. His fingers were still doing their little dance.

Tap. Tap. Pause.

Ta. Tap. Pause.

"I can take care of myself." He snapped. I flinched slightly at how cold his voice was. I raise my eyes back towards him and could see his face turn into a stern expression. I bit my lip, he was upset.

"Can you?" I whispered out. I knew that by pushing the matter I would make him even more upset, but I felt like I had to protect him. He had his own issues with these two guys, but I still wanted to pull him out of it.

His gaze flicked away from mine and he cleared his throat. His hands were clasped together on top of the beaten down picnic table. His lips were clamped together and his eyes caused a chill to go down my back.

He was definitely upset.

The tense atmosphere was interrupted by the shrilling sound of a whistle followed by Bellick's hollering. I stood there waiting for Michael to say something or to follow, but he was still staring straight ahead. Not even noticing that I was leaving.

He finally turned to look at me when I was a few steps away, I had stopped to glance back at him and saw that the familiar charming smile was back on his face. His eyes were cold, blocking the world from seeing any emotion. The feelings that I was beginning to feel for him are gone and instead worry and uncertainty replaced it. I shifted a little and refused to look at him anymore. I was being to feel like I had no one. Not even Michael Scofield was safe to be around.

This chapter was actually difficult to write, I'm promise though that everything should pick up soon! As always I love to hear from you guys and appreciate all the support! You guys are the best!