Farewell, I Love You

It is almost two years before the entire conspiracy is laid to rest to Alexander's satisfaction. Two years of gritting his teeth each day when he goes to work. Of going to court and meeting with lawyers and detectives and agents and answering questions. Of pointing the fingers and hoping that none ended up pointing back at him. Of waiting until Paul Kellerman was behind bars, of watching as the depths of the company's influence in his precious FBI was revealed (et tu, Sullins? Rot in hell, asshole). Of waiting and watching and praying and popping pills like there is no tomorrow.

Two things get him through.

One. A folded, well handled origami swan that he carries with him everywhere.

Two. His continued relationship (of sorts) with a very eager Billy. A relationship that Alexander eases his conscious about by forcing the boy into a good college. Getting him to use the brains God gave him for more than selling drugs on the street.

And then, it's over. Everyone in on the conspiracy is dead or in prison. Burrows, both father and son, are free and clear, set up for life. Michael is missing, but Alexander has no qualms at leaving the FBI to deal look for him.

Especially after he destroyed whatever evidence he found that might possibly lead to a location.

Once everything is done, Alexander is free to walk into headquarters, set down his badge, and calmly announce, "I'm out."

Two days later, he's not surprised to find an envelope containing a swan in his mailbox.

The message is brief:

Brown Palace Hotel
Denver, CO
May 7
Give your name at desk

His emotions on getting the swan are mixed. He's excited at the possibility of seeing his fox in person after all this time. He's frightened and angry because this meant Michael is back in the country. Trepidation. Guilt. Happiness.

There is no question as to whether he will go or not. He will. He does.

On May 7, when Alexander checks in, he is led to the Eisenhower Suite. By the time the kid opens the door to the room, Alexander's heart is pounding in anticipation, wondering what will be waiting for him on the other side.

Who he finds is not who he expects.

They stand there, looking at each other as the bell boy bustles around. Setting Alexander's suitcase in the bedroom. Opening a bottle of champagne and setting it and two glasses on the coffee table in the living room. Asking if there was anything else they needed, and then not to worry about a tip because it's been taken care of.

Everything has been taken care of.

"Hello, Alex," Pam says once the bell boy is gone. She smiles crookedly and gestures at the elegant room around them. "This is unexpected."

Alex returns the smile. Feels the heat on his cheeks and says, "Yes." He licks his lips and steps forward. "Can I see... the letter?"

Pam blinks at him. Frowns, but pulls the swan from her pocket.

My darling, it reads.

"There is much left unsaid and unexplained between us. So much I must tell
you to put things right. Allow me the chance to tell you what happened, Pam.
To sit down and explain what I've done. To try and make things right. Everything.

I have always loved you. I always will. Maybe things will never be the same again, but let me try.

All my love,

Alex.

Damn him, Alexander thinks. It's all he can do not to crumple the swan, to tear it to pieces and throw it away.

But he can't. He's been ordered to do something. And maybe Michael is right. Maybe it is time.

He's an expert now at folding these things. The paper creases easily underneath his fingers and he hands the swan back to Pam.

"It took me forever to figure out how to fold it," she says with a rueful smile. "I had to look online for directions."

"It takes practice," he replies. "They're supposed to be good luck, you know. If you fold a thousand of them, your wishes come true."

"I know, I read the book." She tucks the swan back into her pocket. Moves to the couch and sits. "I wouldn't think it's something you'd be interested in. Not anymore."

Alexander hesitates before sitting near her. He keeps a healthy amount of space between them, but sits with his body towards her.

There's a silence between them. It hangs there, the air filled with everything there was to say. Everything that Alexander can't say.

His hands shake, but it's too soon to take his pills.

Innocuously, his mind fills with images. Killing Oscar Shales in a moment of lost control, a moment he continued to regret. Burying the body in the backyard of the home he and Pam had built together. Forcing her and their son out. The thrill he'd felt on realizing what the tattoos adoring Michael's body meant. Michael moving into his mind in a way no convict ever had. Billy, asleep in the bed Alexander and Pam used to share.

The letter.

"Alex," Pam starts, but Alexander cuts her off when a sharp shake of his head.

His heart thuds in his throat.

"I killed Oscar Shales." He whispers it. Gruffly. Head splits in pain. Tears stand in his eyes.

"What?"

Alex licks his lips. Squeezes his hands in fists. "I killed Oscar Shales," he says again. Louder. "He didn't get away. Didn't escape. I found him and he pushed me. I snapped." He looks up and meets Pam's horrified eyes. "He told me about people he'd killed. Women. Children. Men. Talked about. About our child. What he would do to you and I..."

"Snapped," Pam finishes for him. Her eyes are bright. "Oh, God. Alex." She reaches out. Takes his hand.

He wants to pull away, but can't. Isn't strong enough anymore to resist. Resist confession, resist staying away from this woman. His first salvation.

"I buried him in our backyard."

She nods. "I assumed so. That's why you made us leave." Her words are a sob.

"No. No, I made you leave because I couldn't trust myself anymore. I couldn't trust that I wouldn't hurt you. Hurt him." Alexander bites his lip. Shakes his head. "I was scared of myself. If I could give up my principals so easily and kill in cold blood, what might I do to the people I love?"

Pam takes his other hand. She's crying freely, silently. Tears slide down her face like she doesn't know they're there. "You should have told me."

"I couldn't."

"You've had to carry this alone for so long. Look what it's done to you." She looks up and Alexander finds himself lost in her beautiful eyes. "Ever since that day, you've been gone. Lost. I wondered where you were and now I know. You should have told me," she finishes with a whisper.

He reaches up and wipes tears away with his thumb. "I had to protect you."

"From who? Yourself or the FBI?"

"Me." Alex squeezes his eyes shut. "If I was caught... I'd expect you to do the right thing. I was never afraid of that, because you are... who you are. It was myself I couldn't trust."

"Why now?"

He thinks about lying. Thinks about saying this was his plan all along. That once he left the FBI, he'd planned to come back to her. To make things right.

But he can't.

"I didn't set this up," he admits. He releases her hands and sits back. Picks up the champagne glass and downs it.

Pam frowns. "You didn't? But the letter..."

"This is a set up from a... God, I don't even know what he is." Alexander laughs ruefully. Shakes his head before resting it against his hand.

"I don't understand. You're not talking about Billy, are you?"

Alex shakes his head. "Billy is too jealous of you. He takes down any picture of you in the house when he's over. He doesn't even know where I am. Thinks I'm on an interview."

"There's a healthy relationship."

"Nothing about that relationship is healthy. You know how I meant him?"

Pam shakes her head.

Alexander pulls the pen from his pocket. Unscrews it and shakes the pills out. "He's my dealer. I couldn't go to a doctor for anything, not even much needed anti-anxiety drugs. Billy provides them."

She frowns and picks one up. "You could go to a doctor now." Turns her over in her hand before asking, "Do you really need them?"

He nods. "You saw me before I started taking them. I couldn't control myself. My anger, my fear. Anything. They help. Keep me from blowing up, mostly. Hurting anyone." He takes the pills back and puts them away. "I'm old enough to be his father. I'm using him for sex. I pay him to give me pills I could legally get prescribed. He, I'm afraid, thinks he's falling love."

"And you don't feel anything for him?"

"I'm fond of him. But, as I said, I'm using him." He tucks the pen back into his pocket. "How's Roger?"

Pam rolls her eyes. Wipes the last of her tears away. "I'm not using him. And it's getting serious."

"And yet you're here."

"You're message was hard to ignore." She smiles. "Especially the part where it says to tell me everything."

Alexander sits back. Looks at her. "You knew I didn't write it."

"It's a very good approximation of your of your writing, but it's not exact. And, while you are romantic, you'd never open a letter with, 'my darling.' Also, the letter came with a flower delivery. You're a roses man, Alex. Not a lotus blossom."

"Lotus?"

She smiles. "I looked it up. A lotus has the meaning of estranged love. And while I know you're a crazy genius with a heavy romantic streak, you wouldn't think to go with anything that symbolic. You'd stick with the classics." She took his hand again. Threaded their fingers. "So. Who's so enthralled with you that they'd go to all this trouble to make us reconcile?"

Alexander looks at their hands. He still wears his wedding ring; she doesn't. "Do you remember that man who visited you a few years ago? About my supposed promotion? Stole your cell phone then mailed it back a day later?"

"Yeah, I remember. He was so strange."

"That was Michael Scofield. The man engineered the Fox River prison break."

Her mouth falls open. "What?"

Alexander can't help but smirk. "This is why you might want to try and get your news off the television. Or at least the newspaper so you can see pictures. The radio isn't good enough."

"The lack of nightmares containing your felons' faces makes it worth it." She sits back from him, hand on her forehead. "That was Michael Scofield. What did he want?"

"Honestly? I'm not sure. After you told me what happened, the questions he asked, I expected him to call. Threaten me. Try and deal with me. Something. But weeks passed and nothing, and I thought I was mistaken." He takes his wallet from his pocket. Opens it and pulls his swan out. "He did send me this."

Pam unfolds the swan. Reads it. "Oh," she breathes when she's finished. She licks her lips. "He was very pretty."

Alexander blushes.

"Oh," she says again. "Oh, dear, poor Billy."

"I'm basically a rat-bastard these days. Passionately in love with two people I can't have. Sleeping with one I don't love." He reaches out and tucks hair behind her ear. "I miss you so much."

"I miss you too, Alex." Pam pulls her legs onto the couch. Crawls across it, closing the space between them. Crawls onto Alexander's lap.

He pulls back when she leans into kiss him. "Roger," he says. "You said it was serious. How serious?"

Pam tosses her hair over her shoulder. "It's serious." Tears stand in her eyes again, but she shrugs. "But then we both know that we're not going to get back together." She runs her thumb down his face. "You are the best lover, best partner I've ever had. Nothing will ever change that. But it's been too long, and we've moved on. Both of us." She kisses him. "So, unless we give up everything, search for him, and share..."

Alexander shudders at the thought of sharing Michael with Pam. Of sharing her with him, of them both sharing him, together, in the same bed.

Maybe if they didn't have a child who needed the stability of a family. But they did. And he deserved so much better than a life like that.

Pam kisses him again, her long legs wrapping around his waist. Her perfect bottom grinding down onto him.

"What are you doing?" he asks, wondering if he should protest, even as his hands take her shirt and tug it up and over her head.

"We never got to say good-bye. Not properly." She combs her fingers through his hair. "Let's take this weekend as a gift. The real end to our marriage. Not something confusing that I don't understand. But real closure."

"We need to really talk, though. I'd like to see my son. I'd like to... see you safe. I'd like..."

She cuts him off with a kiss. A deep, passionate kiss that awakes every nerve in Alexander's body that had been numbed or cut off since the divorce.

"I'd like you to fuck me, Alex," Pam whispers into his ear. She licks the shell of his ear. Tugs at the lobe.

"Pam," he says, strangled.

"Take me to bed, my love."

He does. They don't leave for three days. Three days of all expense paid bittersweet bliss covered by ten thousand of Charles Westmorland, aka DB Cooper's, money. Money placed in an anonymous account that Alexander closes the moment he leaves the hotel. And, with the leftover money, Alexander does as the instructions left tell him. Alexander opens a new account for his and Pam's son, to pay for his college education.

"Where were you?" Billy asks when Alexander gets home.

Alexander hangs his jacket in the hall closet. Toes off his shoes and tucks the laces neatly inside. Then he turns to Billy, sitting at the dining room table, surrounded by books, and says, "Billy. We need to talk."

Fin




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