Michael's mind felt like it was sprinting at full speed, lost in a maze of carefully crafted lines and edges. He felt himself slowly going insane as he tried to recall the missing piece in his tattooed puzzle. It had been his third sleepless night in the shoe. He thought back to his countless hours of studying and mapping, but the visions were too blurry to see. his mind was too exhausted to recall any new information.

Intrusive thoughts clouded his brain and made his heart rate increase. I have to remember. I put my blood into this. He said to himself over and over again. He heard the faint calls from his brother through the small vent in the floor, but he couldn't focus on it. "I put my blood into this." He started chanting out loud.

He paced back and forth, taking three steps before turning back due to the smallness of the cell. His hands started shaking and his breathing sped up like he was running a marathon. If I don't remember, he won't be alive. It will all be my fault. I failed him. Negative thoughts started pushing their way to the front of his brain.

He stopped pacing and stared at the wall. "I put my blood into this." he said again and looked down to his hands. He began punching the wall at full force causing his knuckles to bleed. Tears poled into his eyes and down his face at the pain but he didn't care. He kept punching till there was enough blood to spread across the walls. He moved his knuckles up and down the hard concrete attempting to recreate his missing piece. He heard yelling from down the hall but paid no attention to it. He kept repeating the same phrases over and over and covered the walls in his blood.

He felt weak and the feeling of blackness washed over him for a moment. The blood on his knuckles started to dry and it made him start to panic. He still could not recreate the imagine in the furthest corners of his mind. He looked around frantically in his small 4 walled cell and spotted a piece of metal poking out from his bed. He fell over to it, too weak to continue standing. He grabbed the metal and gave a hard tug until it was between his fingers.

He began making large incisions on his arms and watched as his blood pooled out of them and drip onto the floor. He dropped the piece of metal and shakily stood. He began again and traced the walls with his blood covered fingers, but he still couldn't picture the missing tattoo.

Black dots formed in his vision and he shook his head to clear the cobwebs. "I failed him." he whispered to himself. "I failed him." he said louder. More tears escaped his eyes and he began punching the wall again. He felt himself slipping away into the darkness as he fell to the floor. Blood spread around his body as he laid there. His breath was coming in short breaths. He heard distant yelling again and the rustling of keys. He saw the door open and watched a familiar figure running in. The last thing he heard was a female voice yelling his name.

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Bright lights flooded through the infirmary windows waking Michael out of a dreamless sleep. He kept his eyes closed, feeling the presence of someone in the room. His suspicions were confirmed as he heard the rusting of papers coming from a few feet away. He heard a small sigh and opened his eyes knowing who it came from.

Sara sat at her desk facing away from him. He glanced at the photographs she was holding. He saw the blood stained walls and memories of the previous days rushed back to the front of his mind. He looked down to his arms and knuckles to see them bandaged and stitched. He felt pain in his chest as he thought of his brother. He sighed and began blaming himself for his brothers death that would be taking place in the next two weeks.

A small sigh snapped Sara out of her thoughts and she looked over towards the bed at the other side of the room. Her eyes met his face and saw that he was awake. She rushed over to him, a worried expression on her face.

He felt a new pang of hurt in his chest, but this time for the concerned look upon Sara's face. His gaze met hers for a split second before he turned away, ashamed of making her worry and afraid of what she thought of him now.

"Michael?" she asked him. He showed no emotion and refused to meet her gaze. "What happened in there?" she pushed, hoping to get some sort of explanation. She watched as a few of his walls came down. A small tear escaped his eyes and he tried to turn ever further away from her. She gently placed her hand on his wrist and waited for him to speak. He cleared his throat. "I failed him." He finally spoke, repeating the same phrase over and over in his head after he said the words aloud.

"What do you mean Michael?" she asked gently after a few minutes.

"He's going to die because of me. He's in here because of me." more tears formed in his eyes and he desperately tried to blink them away.

"You didn't do anything wrong Michael. You had no part in any of this." she told him. He mumbled something under his breath. "What?" she asked him.

"I was supposed to get him out of here." he repeated. His voice sounded so broken and lost.

"There's no way you could have. This isn't your fault." she responded, trying to comfort him.

"You don't understand." he replied. He felt exhausted even though he had just woken up.

"Help me understand... Please." she said. He looked up at her. He studied her face asking himself if he could trust her to not say anything. He sighed knowing that either way, without his map, there was no hope of him getting out of here with his brother. He took a deep breath and opened up about his plan and how without his tattoo there was no way to continue. She stared at him in disbelief as he shared the information. "He's innocent." he explained "Veronica has all the information." She shook her head not knowing what to say or do. Deep down she knew his brother was innocent but she was in no position to help.

"Now he's going to die in two weeks and after you report me, I'll be here for the rest of my life." he said to her while looking out into the distance. She got up suddenly and walked out the door. He watched her leave and shed another tear knowing that the last chance of freedom walked out the door.

He stayed in the exam room for the rest of the day and never heard or saw Sara again. He felt alone and broken, blaming himself more and more. He felt like he was in a downward spiral with no hope of reaching the surface again. The room began to get dark as night was creeping around the corner and he closed his eyes.

He awoke to the exam door opening. His eyes focused and saw Sara walking in with no expression on her face. He waited for the guards to come and inform him that his sentence was being extended but none came.

She approached him and slid a small photograph out from the pocket of her lab coat. She handed it to him. He looked at it and saw his missing piece. He looked into her eyes and she smiled. "I talked to Veronica yesterday. She explained everything to me. I believe you and what you're doing. I wish there was more I could do, but I hope this is a start." she explained.

"So you didn't report me?" he asked with a small smile. "No." she responded. "he doesn't belong here. And neither do you." she said grabbing his hand. Her lips curved upwards.

"Thank you Sara." he said sincerely. She turned to walk out of the room to let him rest. She stopped at the door and looked back.

"Michael?" she asked. His eyes met hers. "I never want to see you unconscious in a cell again." she told him.

"I promise." he replied smiling. She smiled back and left him to think about his next move.