𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐫 - 𝐌. 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝

I stumble into work hoping nobody can smell the alcohol in my breath. I've been drinking tons of water hoping to wash away the smell.

I have an appointment with Michael again. Not looking forward to that.  He doesn't know that I know he lied to me.

I walk in and he's waiting.

"After what you went through in the riot, I thought you might take a day off."

"No, I'm fine. I couldn't find anybody to cover for me anyway." I say as I give him his shot.

"I hope you don't feel like you owe me anything." he seems like he means it. I hope he hasn't smelled the alcohol in my breath.

"I do, I appreciate what you did for me." he did save me from getting hurt.

"But?"

I look away before saying, "But you lied to me. You told me you knew your way around the crawl space because of PI but PI was never assigned to go there." I look back at him and he's just staring blankly at me.

"We're done here right?"

I sigh, "Michael don't be like that. I just want some answers."

"Thanks for the shot doc." he says as he walks out.

...

After it gets slow in the infirmary, I look more into Michael's file. His mother is dead, his father, nobody knows. I grab his photo and try to think about what he's up to. Katie walks in as his photo is in my hand. "What's this?" she says mockingly.

"Nothing, nothing." I say as I clip his photo back to his file.

"You stalker." she jokes.

"I'm not a stalker, I just, he's strange. I don't get why a person so well off robs a bank? Guys like that pay $200 Cubs tickets."

"Maybe he couldn't afford Cubs tickets, that's why he robbed the bank." she jokes.

"I'm being serious." I say.

"Why do you care so much?" she questions me.

"I have feelings for him." I think to myself. I decide to say he lied to me instead.

"They all lie to you." she says, not satisfied with my answer.

"Well maybe it's because he's the one guy I can actually get to in here. The one guy I can make a difference with."

"Go home girl. You're gonna drive yourself crazy." she says as she heads out for the night.

If I go home, I drink. I shouldn't be drinking, I know it.

...

I call about Michael's medical insurance, the lady on the phone says he's met his medical deductible but she's mistaken and it's his psych deductible.

I am curious and go to talk to his psychiatrist. He doesn't want to share information about Michael but I reassure him that it's for helping Michael.

"I feel like I can get through to him."

I ask him what he treated him for.

"Michael suffered from a couple things; One was a condition called low latent inhibition."

"Sorry I'm not familiar with the term." I reply.

"Well, people who suffer from low latent inhibition see everyday things just like you or I do. Like this lamp for instance, but where we just process the image of a lamp, they process everything, the stem, the bulb, the bolts, even the washers inside."

"Their brains are more open to incoming stimuli in the surrounding environment. Other people's brains, yours and mine, shut out the same information. We have to do it, in order to keep our sanity. If someone with a low IQ has low latent inhibition, it almost always results in mental illness. But, if someone with a high IQ, it almost always results in creative genius." he finishes.

"Do you think Michael is a genius?" I question.

"Well, I think that word has been derogated in the media these days. But in the class sense of the word, yes, I do." he answers. I'm shocked but then I remember he said he treated Michael for something else before and ask him about that.

"He came to me with absolutely no sense of self worth. The loss of both parents very often does that to a child. But with the low latent inhibition, something interesting happened to Michael. He became very attuned to all the suffering around him. He couldn't shut it out. He became a rescuer. One of those people who are more concerned with other people's welfare than their own."

"I didn't know all this about him." I say, speaking my thoughts out loud.

"Then maybe you don't know Michael Scofield."

Maybe not.

...

The next day I decide to speak to Michael by the fence.

"Hey, I want you to know that if you ever need anybody to talk to in here, you're not alone. Talk to me. It's part of my job to counsel inmates and help them with their problems." as I'm saying this he seems to not care at all.

"I think I have things pretty well figured out." he replies coldly.

"Well, I sort of looked into some information about you. I hope you don't mind, but you got to understand that there's are reason I became a doctor. It's in my nature to want to help people."

He doesn't say anything.

"From what I understand it's in your nature too." I can tell that got his attention. "You did a lot of good things before you came in here. Lot of community and charity work. What happened?"

He turns his head and looks at me and says, "the man you're talking about died the moment I stepped inside these walls."

Why is he acting this way? Is it because I nearly kissed him? Or is it because I spoke to his psychiatrist? Did I push him away? I hope I haven't.