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Author's Chapter Notes:
As always beta by Foxriverinmate.
When Alex woke, he felt a lot better than he had the day before. He turned and felt his muscles were less cramped and his wounds were itching a bit, the sign of the healing process being well under way. The only thing that really bothered him was the pounding in his head and the dry mouth he seemed to have ever since he no longer had control over his pills. He blinked, rubbed the ridge of his nose and forehead and sat up, blankets falling off his chest. He looked in Lincoln’s direction quite automatically and found that particular corner of the cabin was empty.

He willed his legs to move and he soon stood, looking for a hint of what Lincoln Burrows was playing at. He found two pills on the table beside a bottle of water, the kettle and a few sandwiches. On the chair sat a neatly folded clean shirt. Alex didn’t know what to think so ignored everything but the pills and carefully walked towards the door. His hand on the doorknob, he opened it slightly, a beam of light assaulting his eyes.

The vision of the trees, sunlight and basic freedom was nearly overwhelming. He hadn’t been able to appreciate it when he’d escaped Sona and the hotel room due to his withdrawal, but now… He stepped fully outside, his bare feet reveling in the feel of dirt and fallen leaves. The morning sun felt warm and comforting. Alex tilted his face upwards and closed his eyes. For a few moments he stood, basking in sunlight, the sound of chirping birds calming him in a strange way.

In the distance he could hear a soft cracking and soon it transformed into the distinct sound of somebody coming closer, breaking twigs and leaves that lay fallen on the ground. He opened his eyes and shifted to the right. Lincoln’s car was still there and Alex hadn’t even actively looked for it.

“You didn’t bolt.” Lincoln’s voice drifted over to him before he saw him appear through the trees. From his appearance, Alex gathered he had gone for a swim. His chest was bare and dripping wet, as were his feet.

“I didn’t think to do so. Must be getting old.”

Lincoln nodded at the answer and motioned behind him. “There’s a small lake a few paces that way. It’s cold, but clean. If you want to, I mean.” Lincoln had stopped for a moment as he spoke, but now resumed his stride and was with Alex in a few steps. He stood, face to the door, before he stopped again. He didn’t look at Alex, but that was alright.

“I’ll get some coffee ready. Maybe some food if you want. I’ll wait for half an hour.” After that, Lincoln Burrows covered the rest of the distance to the door and entered, leaving Alex alone.

It was an act well played, even though Alex wasn’t really sure what the purpose was. Lincoln all but gave him the *get out of jail free* card, but on the other hand, free to get into what? As he had thought before, Alex was well aware of the wall against his back. He had no other choice but to work with Lincoln Burrows and his tenacious brother, because he had no other viable options.

The door behind him opened again. Soft rustling didn’t tell him anything until something soft was pushed into his hands from behind him.

Lincoln’s arm and hands fleetingly touched his side as he retreated again and mumbled “thought you might want to have something resembling a towel.”

Alex smiled. He started to feel human after being stripped of the feeling in the last couple of weeks. He couldn’t help thinking that the very man who was instrumental in that stripping now carefully helped him to rebuild. It was unnerving to say the least. Alex started to walk as he tried to keep his moment of carefree thinking afloat. He was going to take a bath.

As Lincoln had said, the water was cold, but not too cold to bathe in. It was heavenly for Alex to be able to scrub off the dirt, filth and even flecks of disgusting bits that he didn’t want to name. He’d still had parts of the alley’s crusted reminders plastered on his skin. He hadn’t realized just how horrible the state of his body was until he got the dirt off.

His clothes were dirty too and even though Lincoln had put a clean shirt with the towel he’d pushed into Alex’s hands, his socks, underwear and trousers were still quite grimy. For a moment, he wondered why Lincoln had gotten him a shirt and not any underwear. Then again, judging by its size the shirt was probably Lincoln’s. Maybe a spare he kept in the car.

Alex got out and dried off as best as he could. He did not put the dirty underwear on again and left his socks too. The only thing that he did wear were his mucky trousers and of course the shirt that smelled and felt so very clean.

He began his trek back to the shack again. He didn’t know how long he had taken and had a fleeting thought of Lincoln leaving him as a gesture of good will. However, when Alex arrived at his temporary *home* he found the car was still there.

He opened the door and found Lincoln sitting at the table, elbows leaning on the top, cup of coffee in hand. Lincoln turned his head to look at him and Alex closed the door. “Susan just called. She wants to see me in an hour. She probably wants to twist my balls again.”

Alex nodded and moved towards the other chair that was situated at the table. Lincoln put his own cup aside and poured one for Alex. He rumbled softly, “I need you to… help me with the proof that I’ve been fucking around.”

Alex looked up and could swear a hint of red crept up Lincoln’s neck. He took the cup of coffee in hand and answered. “No problem, just remember that it’s business. Get in, let her mock you get more time and use the emotions you’re feeling. It will look real.”

They stared at each other and Lincoln pushed his cup away.

“I’ll try to bring you some fresh clothes and that paper I promised you. Anything else you really need?” Lincoln stood and he started to unbutton his shirt.

Alex took a sip of his coffee as he continued to stare at Lincoln and his steady work on his shirt. “Just something different to eat than noodles or sandwiches, if that’s possible. And some clean socks, pants and underwear, please.”

Lincoln was done with his shirt and let it hang open. He took a step closer to Alex and the red crept up his neck again. “I’ll do my best. Can you-” he didn’t finish the sentence and he looked away, clenching his jaw. It looked as if he was on his way to the slaughter, but on the other hand, having your father’s murderer’s lips on you probably was the same thing.

Alex sighed and placed his right hand on Lincoln’s hip. “Come closer, stand between my legs. I’ll give her something to think about.”

Lincoln did what was asked and Alex had a broad lower chest and belly of clean flesh in front of him. He put his left hand in Lincoln’s side and leaned forward, placing his lips above Lincoln’s navel. Lincoln gasped at the contact and Alex opened his mouth, letting his tongue lick at the skin before he started sucking in earnest. He felt a hand landing on his shoulder and let the skin leave his mouth with a pop.

“One more on your chest. Large enough to give her some pause.” Alex said without looking at Lincoln’s face.

Lincoln didn’t answer, but let some sort of timbre sound leave his mouth. It sounded like an agreement and since Alex wasn’t pushed away he took it exactly like that.
Alex stood and bowed forward, attacking Lincoln’s chest just below his right nipple. He repeated the process, sucking and licking until he was totally satisfied with the result. He’d felt Lincoln shudder when Alex had licked his nipple, but he’d ignored it just as he had ignored any reaction he had himself.

He fell back in his chair, leaned against the backrest and looked at Lincoln. The man had closed his eyes and Alex felt a flash of shame. He couldn’t imagine having the kind of contact they’d just had with the person who had murdered Pam. All reasonable thoughts of relaxation flew out of the window at that. How could he even enjoy a single cup of coffee when all of this was going on?

“I’m sorry,” Alex ground out, “for making you uncomfortable.” Lincoln took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

“Not your fault, I asked for it. I’ve been in jail too long. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Try to work on some ideas in the meantime, will you?” Lincoln said as he quickly closed his shirt, leaving the top three buttons open to let the upper hickey peek out. He turned and left the cabin.

It was then that Alex realized that Lincoln’s trousers had tented somewhat around his groin. Now that was something Alex never could have imagined. It appeared Lincoln rivaled him in the department of being fucked up.

He finished his food, and what was left of the coffee, before he started to think about his course of action. This shack was going to be his base of operations. He was going to make plans here, sleep and eat here for at least a week, if not more.

The wall behind him didn’t offer any possibilities. It wasn’t broad enough because it was cut short by the walk-through to the other part of the shack and the toilet. Opposite him, the same happened because of the door. To his right was a window. That left the wall where Lincoln had slept the night before. With a few thumbtacks, all right maybe a lot, he could start to map out Michael’s plan and his own.

He would need paper, a map of the region, flight times, knowledge of the coastguard, rosters and changes of the guards at the prison. He was pacing, strategies forming in his head and a familiar buzz vibrated through his veins. It didn’t dull the pain in his heart or the ache in his throat. The feeling of his living was overshadowed by Pam’s death. He hated it.

It was nearly as dark as the day before when Alex heard a car coming up to the cabin. Unlike yesterday, it wasn’t dark inside since he had the freedom to light candles. He’d used the brown paper bag, a small branch and cold coffee to write some thoughts down in shorthand. He hoped it was Lincoln outside. If it wasn’t and this Susan had decided to visit him, he was in deep shit. He would have to talk to Lincoln about that little problem.

The car engine died and a door opened and slammed shut. Alex sat down on his chair, facing the door. If it wasn’t Lincoln he wouldn’t be able to do much about it anyway. Another door opened and later shut again. Maybe the trunk? He braced himself for his visitor, but nobody came. It was odd and for a moment Alex imagined Lincoln standing outside, looking at the door with a couple of bags in his arms.

Maybe he had because when the door did open Lincoln was there. The bags he had been carrying were deposited carefully on the table. The keys to the car were thrown carelessly next to them. Lincoln went back to the door and closed it, letting his hand linger on the wood.

“How did it go?” Alex asked, a bit more curious than he thought he would be.

Lincoln’s lip twitched before he spoke. It wasn’t amusement. “She laughed at me, jeering about me playing hide the sausage and if Michael knew. I told her no and that it was going to stay that way.” Lincoln’s hand balled into a fist and then relaxed again.

Alex smiled. “Exactly what we expected she would do then.”

Lincoln clasped his hands together. “That and more. She really annoyed me before, but now. I can’t help but hope she’ll… trip and break her neck or something.”

Alex snorted. That was a poor attempt to hide the fact that the other man probably wanted to wring her neck the same way he’d almost done to Alex days before. Somehow, he didn’t take Lincoln for an aggressive man when it came to women though.

“Did you get some extra time out of her?” Alex pressed, since Lincoln was not forthcoming with the information, probably still squirming in his humiliation.

Lincoln swallowed with a grimace and for a moment, Alex thought he would spit on the ground. He didn’t though and put his right hand against the door again, leaning slightly as he studied the floor...

“Yeah she gave us an extra week. So we’ve got ten days in total. She added that she wanted to watch the next time I was taking it up the ass.”

That caused Alex to laugh. “She’s not subtle is she? Frustrated woman?”

Lincoln shrugged and shifted his eyes to Alex’s. “I think she’s just a psycho and probably tries to needle me.”

Alex searched Lincoln’s face. He was quite sure Lincoln had pegged this Susan right. She didn’t sound like a stupid woman. She probably got off on power games and that included comments like that.

Lincoln’s hand left the doorpost as he turned fully towards Alex. They were both standing with no more than three feet between them. The bruising hickey Alex had given Lincoln earlier stood out like a badge.

“I’ve brought you clothes, paper, pens. Even got some thumbtacks for the wall; figured you’d use them like Michael does.”

It caused an unfamiliar stirring in Alex’s gut. It wasn’t the mention of fresh clothes, but the prospect of being able to do something. Plan and get ready to gut the bastards who’d killed Pam from head to toe. He was grateful that Lincoln gave him the opportunity. That feeling almost caused him to fail to notice the continued display of discomfort Lincoln was exhibiting. Something was off.

“Something else?” he asked.

Lincoln nodded, avoiding his eyes. “Yeah, brought an axe.”

Alex raised his eyebrows at that, but the way Lincoln had said it told him there was more and the axe wasn’t exactly part of the message that was upsetting. “An axe, right,” he commented.

Lincoln looked at him again, his hand finding his neck, massaging for a few seconds before dropping along his side.

“It’s… when I got your clothes I walked past a newspaper stand.” Alex felt chills run down his spine. He tried to swallow, but found his mouth wasn’t moist enough.

Lincoln took one step closer, Alex backed off one. “What?” he barked out. He didn’t know if he was more frightened than angry; maybe it was panic. It was a strange sensation.

Lincoln didn’t move anymore, but compassion crept into his eyes. It heightened Alex’s emotions at a blinding rate. “It was a US paper. There was an article about a… a murder in Cleveland. It’s about your wife. I bought it, do you want to-?”

Alex grabbed the edge of the table, his nails digging in. “Give it to me please.”

Lincoln turned and rummaged through one of the bags. Alex fell to the chair, nails still holding onto the table for dear life. Before he knew it, the newspaper was splayed out in front of him. The headline screaming: ‘Ex-wife of FBI agent dismembered. Agent missing; involvement suspected.’