And then, we get the steps of a big building, and we find out that Kellerman's apparently become ... a Congressman? Whomever ran against him should sue their opposition researchers for gross incompetence. Even if you can't pin a dozen different murders on the guy, what about him testifying to being part of a massive One World Conspiracy? I mean, Jack Ryan lost a senate seat once it was revealed he liked sex clubs and that is small potatoes compared to someone cheerfully committing the following to public record: " I planted evidence, I procured a body, I lured Lincoln Burrows into that parking garage on that evening on the false premises of a different hit. From the ground up, we framed him. So Lincoln Burrows gets executed, people forget about Terrence Steadman, the controversy surrounding him and the presidency, and nobody ever knows about the [One World Conspiracy]." I guess the voters of Illinois will forgive corruption more easily than they do kink. Anyway, some voter is telling Congressman Kellerman, "You fight those bastards in Washington. You don't let them give you any guff." Kellerman chortles and assures her he won't. Because the voters have given him a license to kill, it seems. Right before Kellerman gets in his car, the widow of Danny Hale (the partner Kellerman killed in season one) stops by to introduce herself and spit in Kellerman's face. And we learn that he really has changed because he does not immediately break her neck or anything. Once in the car, Kellerman sits and sighs, looking regretful.
Then we cut to General Von Baldy, who is trembling and choking back tears as he is being strapped into an electric chair. After only four years? Wouldn't someone who was the head of a vast criminal conspiracy, with buckets of gold doubloons and agents in every powerful place on the planet, be able to muster enough legal help to tie up the appeals process for at least a decade? This is ... well, it makes "Congressman Kellerman" look plausible. Anyway, a priest asks, "Are you ready, my son?" and Von Baldy quavers, "Semper peratus." I can only hope we're going to get a wide reveal on the scene and discover T-Bag strapped into the chair next to him as someone reads off a yard-long scroll of all the people T-Bag killed while he was on the lam.
No, wait ... the ESCAPED FUGITIVE who racked up a body count that requires two (attached) hands is apparently back at Fox River and up to the same-old, same-old. And I suppose I should write about how this scene reminds him of his time when he was Cole Pfeiffer and a respected man, yada-yada, but I think that letting T-Bag live behind bars is a bullshit move that panders to fans in entirely the wrong way. So I refuse to say any more about it. Robert Knepper does a wonderful job as a character who has more in common with Milton's Satan than he'll ever know, but that character deserved to come to an ignominious and sticky end.
Then we cut to a long-haired redhead in a spaghetti-strap sundress, sporting a big scar along her right shoulder. (Did Gretchen give Dr. Sara that, courtesy of their brief time together in Panama?) She's in an open-air market someplace where English is not the first language, and she's picking out a bouquet of calla lilies. The lady turns around and it is Dr. Sara. She chortles and says, "Michael, we gotta go." And we see that Michael ... has apparently traveled back in time and is now a sulky four-year-old child. Still working that Blue Steel, though.
Dr. Sara tears the child away from the fake-tattoo artist with nary an inquiry as to whether or not Michael's inking plans to break out of his room during naptime. And then she says, "Let's go see your daddy," so it appears that we're not exploring a television adaptation of Benjamin Button after all, but rather, this child is what Michael's DNA hath wrought. There is a cute sequence where Dr. Sara and Michael-the-child go skipping through the town square and we see that she is still prone to carrying gigantic handbags with her. I can only hope that parenthood made her more organized, and am obliquely grateful we never had any nerve-wracking sequences wherein she spent hours searching for the Lasinoh at the bottom of the diaper bag.
Then Dr. Sara and Michael-the-child are at the edge of a beach, and the child goes running toward Uncle Linc for a big hug. We see that Mahone and Sucre are there too, and there are hugs and kisses all around for Dr. Sara, and that she is wearing a wedding ring. Hmmmm. Still carrying the child -- and giving Sucre a run for the money in the "bald guys who could Get Some Anywhere, Anytime, so long as there is a toddler with them" category -- Linc leads the little group down to the beach. And then ...
They stop in front of a headstone. Michael-the-child lays down the flowers, and everyone takes a moment of silence. And then Linc puts a white origami swan on top of the headstone and walks off. One by one, everyone touches the tombstone and walks off into the sunset. Seriously -- there is a beach, there is a sunset, there are Mahone and Sucre acting oddly huggy in the background. And there is the legend on the tombstone: MICHAEL J. SCOFIELD. 10.8.1974 -- 11.5.2005. Husband. Father. Brother, Uncle. Friend. Be the change you want to see in the world. The camera pulls close to the swan and that's our final image, of the fragile little bird letting us all know that no matter what, Lincoln and Michael will always be brothers.
And that's it -- an off-screen death for one of the series heroes, and a sort of "Michael Scofield died for your sins" vibe draped around the survivors. Mr. Sobell and I argued about this ending for half an hour -- he says "it wasn't earned" and I argued that I love epilogues and the only thing wrong was that this wasn't done Animal House or American Graffiti style. But here is how Prison Break ends -- four people with ordinary lives gathering to remember an extraordinary person and the extraordinary experiences they had because of him. I like it.