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Title: In This Room, In This Place 2/4
Rating: PG-13
Summary. Every scene of Michael and Sara in S1. Even those they didn't show us
Disclaimer: I don't own Prison Break. Some lines and the title are from the show
Part One
April 19
“So you heard,” he said as he walked into the infirmary.
She looked up from where she’d been staring blankly at her desk.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, you must have heard about my transfer. You look so gloomy.”
She had in fact heard about it. It had made her gloomy, but she resented his presumption of the fact even if he was just trying to be funny.
“Michael, prisoners get transferred all the time. The only reason I would feel glum is because you won’t get such good medical care now.”
“Not if you’re not giving it,” he agreed, sitting down in his usual place.
“Now you won’t be able to keep making up excuses to see me,” she teased, pulling on her gloves.
He took off his shoe and sock and wiggled his existing toes at her.
“Did you ever hear of an inmate who would cut off his toes to be able to see you twice in one day, Doc? That’s gotta be true love.”
“A little masochistic for my taste,” she countered and bent to unwrap the bandage.
He smiled slightly and then hesitated.
“I am…working on not being transferred.”
“Is that so?” she said, glad her face was hidden, though her hands had a slight twitch in them as they examined his foot.
“Yeah, I have…needs and wants that can only be met in this particular prison.”
She was really glad he couldn’t see her face.
“Well,” she said, straightening up. “I hope for your sake that you’re able to work it. I’m going to go get your shot.”
“I’ll be right here.”
She cast a quick glance at him over her shoulder. Their eyes connected briefly before the door closed behind her.
The shot was administered expeditiously and Michael was soon on his way out the door.
“I hope I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said softly.
“I-I hope so, too,” she said as casually as possible.
April 20
“You managed it after all,” she said as he walked into the infirmary. She didn’t say how relieved she’d felt when she saw Pope stop the transfer at the gate, but it was all she could think about.
“Not really my doing,” he said as he sat down. “All the Pope.”
She could see the immense relief on his face.
“Hang on a sec while I get your shot.”
She thought she knew why the relief was so vivid. It was silly how she felt slightly put off that she wasn’t part of the reason, but now she knew that Lincoln Burrows was his brother. The fact still surprised her. They didn’t seem to have anything in common. It made her itch to find out more, but she didn’t want to talk about it with Michael just yet. She shouldn’t even want to talk about it at all.
***
“You’re a little jumpy today,” he observed, still high on the fact that he was here to see her at all. “That glad to have me here?”
“I’m always pleased to be able to treat my patients,” she said primly.
He chuckled slightly.
“Watch it, Doc. I might believe you.” She rolled her chair back to grab his file on her desk and he watched her hair as, through the motion, it tried to work its way free of her barrette. It was distractingly beautiful and he had to force his eyes to return to her face. “I like your clip,” he said casually.
She looked up in surprise.
“Uh, thank you. A present.”
“Nice taste.”
He liked to know these kinds of things about people. He especially liked to know them about her and it was becoming increasingly difficult to think that it was for platonic reasons. Or that the only reason he was glad to be staying here was for the plan and his brother.
April 21
“Morning, Michael.”
Their time together was routine, they could do it in their sleep. It left plenty of time for other thoughts, other occupations, during the short time he spent with her each day.
“Eyebrow, toe, then shot?” he asked casually.
“Let’s mix it up a bit. Let’s be wild and do the eyebrow last.”
She reached for the bandages on his toe and suppressed a smile. There were disturbing things about this man and there were questions that plagued her; but that didn’t change the fact that the time he spent in the infirmary was the brightest of her day.
“Am I gonna have to report you for having too much fun on the job?” he said jovially.
“Contusions aren’t exactly my idea of fun. Though, apparently, they’re yours,” she said pointedly.
“It was an accident,” he said quickly. A little too quickly.
“Maybe,” she said and continued on with her work. “But if Haywire were my cellie maybe I would be afraid he’d do something like that to me. Even be afraid enough to break the code and actually report it.”
He didn’t say anything. She wasn’t surprised, but she wanted to present the last part of her suspicions. She started to rewrap his foot.
“A bit rough there, Doc,” he said softly.
She wondered if he was speaking just about his foot. She was digging too deeply and he didn’t want to continue the conversation.
“Sorry. Anyway, I wouldn’t even be surprised if I inflicted such a wound on myself to get out of the situation without asking for favors or hurting anyone.”
“Do you think it might rain later?” he asked pointedly.
She shook her head ruefully.
“Fine. I won’t say anything more. But, Michael, I want to help you.”
He looked at her carefully. She met his gaze squarely, trying to convey her sincerity.
“I know. I wish I…I wish you could.”
“You’re an interesting man,” she said, sighing.
“You’ve no idea,” he said, his tone lightening.
She felt a slight thrill inside.
“No, not likely to either.”
She quickly administered his shot and took the bandage off his eyebrow. She’d accomplished one thing today and that was a confirmation of her suspicions about Haywire. His refusal to speak said it all. But there were more questions and they would have to be saved for another time. If they should be asked at all.
“Sa-Doctor, be sure to wear a raincoat tomorrow. Just in case,” he said as he exited, casting a smile over his shoulder.
She couldn’t stop her own from forming.
April 22
“You know, you said it was going to rain, and there I was, with a raincoat and no rain,” Sara said as Michael walked in to the infirmary.
“I only asked if you thought it might rain,” he returned. “It’s a little too hot for it to be raining.”
She didn’t want to think about why he’d said it in the first place so she just resumed her doctor role and cared for her patient. There had been something else bothering her for a few days now, the question of his brother. She knew it shouldn’t matter, but she wondered why he hadn’t told her about his connection to Lincoln. After talking to Lincoln, she felt even more sympathy for the brothers than she knew she should have for any inmate.
“I’ll just listen to the weather man from now on,” she replied.
“So tell me about Northwest,” he said, after frowning slightly.
She wondered how much he could tell about what she was thinking. His gazes always made her feel transparent. She resented it because it certainly wasn’t like he told her everything.
“Uh, not much to tell. I was pretty busy studying most of the time I was there. How about you?” she said, happy to change the subject.
“I was, coincidentally, also studying. There was this…little blonde who always sat on the bench outside my class. She’d stare into the sky with the strangest look on her face. She’d draw sometimes. She fascinated me so I’d leave notes and puzzles for her on the bench. She’d figure them out eventually, well, mostly. I guess I didn’t have a lot to do back then.”
She was amazed at the degree of jealousy that coursed through her.
“Yeah, sounds like a real bore,” she said as she swabbed his skin, without really paying attention to what she was doing. “I only left puzzles for other redheads, so you can see how my time was much more interesting.”
“Redheads do have a certain…bewitching quality to them,” he said slowly and she felt his gaze resting on her hair.
“Oh, we do. There are a few things you’d be surprised we redheads are best at or get to achieve given our genetics.”
“Really. Do tell.”
“I shouldn’t give away the secrets. I’ll just let you…ponder on it.” She felt a slight shiver go through his skin and wondered if she’d really meant to draw those words out the way she had. She was dangerously close to inappropriate conversation with an inmate. “Now you better go before I give away all my trade secrets.”
She stood in the center of the room, trying to clear her head and reminded herself that she’d been meaning to ask him about his brother and instead…she didn’t even know what had just happened.
***
“Maybe you’ll tell me one tomorrow,” he said hopefully as he got up to go.
If not she’d better talk about something like cotton balls or a new way of sterilization because she would make him go crazy otherwise. The way she had been talking intrigued him and his brain started to work faster than normal, if that was possible. It was incredibly unfair for her to look the way she did anyway. Prison doctors should be required to be at retirement age and more than usually ugly for their age.
“Maybe. All under doctor/patient privilege of course.”
“Of course,” he almost whispered and left with an intent look in her direction.
He frowned slightly. Apart from the rather tantalizing things she was saying, she had clearly had something else on her mind. She was internalizing something. Not that he had any right to know about it. It wasn’t like he told her everything. Still, he suddenly ached to know everything she thought about.
April 23
She walked up to the fence where he was standing just on the other side. She looked determined and he gathered now was the time that she was going to choose to say whatever it was she had been thinking about before.
“Hottest April on record,” she said.
“Global warming,” was his explanation. He was just glad to see her. She looked amazing in blue.
“Probably. You got a minute?”
“About five years’ worth.” He was determined to be casual.
After all, they weren’t in their proper roles or their proper location. It could be a dangerous conversation and she appeared flustered.
“Sorry. Right. Um, you never told me Lincoln Burrows was your brother.” He felt a wall close over his face. He hated it, but it was necessary.
“Never came up,” he said flatly.
“Right. And I'm curious if that isn’t because of my father, the governor? He may not be the one pulling the switch, but we both know he has the power to grant clemency and he won’t. And he never does.”
He gave her the truth, even if it was a different truth than that which he could have said. It still felt good to tell her something real.
“My old man was an abusive drunk who abandoned his family. I don’t judge anyone by their father’s actions, or inactions, if that was your concern.”
Something in her face relaxed and he could tell that it had really been bothering her. She smiled more genuinely.
“Just so you know, I don’t agree with his politics and I'm sorry about your brother.”
“I appreciate that.” He wished he could truly express his thanks.
She turned to leave; he knew she didn’t have any other reason to stay. But she turned back around again suddenly and spoke rapidly.
“Hey, this isn’t much, um…I have to give Lincoln a weekly check-up now. If you want I could schedule those visits to end right before you come in for your shots. That way you could at least see each other, even if it was just in passing.”
Several feelings of gratitude, desire, and helplessness washed over him at her offer, but all he could say was,
“Thank you.” He watched her walk away. “That is a good woman,” he said quietly to himself before going to finish the work he’d started.
***
“Feels cool in here,” he commented, hopping up on the table.
“I guess it would make you more chipper to be in here where at least there’s some air flow,” she commented wryly.
He shifted on the table, feeling more like a little boy than a man who a rap sheet.
“Inmates are pretty restless,” he said. “It’s nice to be out of there.”
“I’m sorry you only get fifteen minutes before you have to go back.”
“You act real clumsy you can make it twenty.” He resisted the urge to wink at her. His success with the air conditioning acted like an intoxicant on him. It made him wish that for just an hour, the two of them could be away from the prison, no pasts, no stigmas, on their own.
“Well, the heat does make me feel a touch sluggish,” she said casually, then winked at him.
He grinned at the way their thoughts seemed to meld.
“Slowest Doc, any prison, anywhere,” he said.
“I’ll try and take that as a compliment.”
She appeared to be doing her best to work slowly. For his sake or hers, he wondered.
“It’s a great day to go swimming. What you do you say we cut out of here?” he asked, grinning.
She laughed out loud.
“Am I supposed to smuggle you out under my coat?”
“I wouldn’t advise the coat, it’s a little hot. Might look suspicious.”
“Oh, really? What do you suggest then?” she asked.
“I’ll have to think on it.” Their conversation coming so close to the area of escape made him a little uncomfortable, but it was going well and he ignored the discomfort. “I’m sure we could work something out.”
The phone rang and she had him hold his bandage in place.
“You work on it while I get this, huh?”
She left and he awkwardly hopped to the grate and worked his chemist magic on the drain.
“Was that an escape artist offering his help?” he asked when she came back.
She gavehim a small smile and hurriedly checked his eyebrow.
“I’m sorry, Michael. Looks like the whistle’s been blown. There’s an inmate suffering from heat exhaustion and I have to go over to B-wing.”
“We can wait,” he said softly, almost to himself.
Despite her sudden hurry, she looked to be reflecting on his words.
“Goodbye, Michael.”
“Bye, Doc.”
He wasn’t nearly as euphoric as he had been when he came in, but they had spent the entire time in conversation without any awkward questions and he counted it a personal breakthrough.
***
His brain was on one track: save her. Nothing else mattered. Even the thought of T-Bag staring into the gaping hole in the wall of his cell didn’t factor in. In fact, until the moment of saving he forgot that the way he saw himself and the way she saw him was different. He acted on instinct, using the words he thought would reach her.
“Come on. Grab my hand. Come on. I’ve got you. Are you all right?” He couldn’t blame her for flinching. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. See these pipes? We’re going to stay on them. They go through the wall and over the hallway and they’re going to get us out of here. All you have to do is follow me. Okay?”
She was shaking so much it was like she couldn’t concentrate on his words. Hopefully deep down she knew he was the man she met with every day and he wasn’t like the other cons.
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Let’s go.” They crawled along and his brain started to retire from survival mode and wonder how he was going to explain his presence to her. His number one thought was still her safety, but reality had started to set in. “Are you all right?”
“I’m okay...I’m fine.” He knew it was a lie, as if she didn’t want to appear weak, but she couldn’t keep it up forever, and she appeared to realize that as much as he did. “You know what, I need a minute. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not much further.”
He didn’t want to make her feel worse, but there wasn’t a lot of time.
“Just a sec,” she said.
“You know, we can stop if you want. Catch our breath.” He’d always been good at calming LJ down in moments of crisis when he was young. Maybe he could use the same tactics here.
“Okay. Yeah, I could use a minute.”
They settled against the wall and he tried to reassure her as best he could. It helped him to hear it, too.
“Things should be winding down around now. Pretty soon, the powers that be will break in and it will all be over. It’s just a matter of time.”
***
“What’s happening in A-Wing?” she asked, trying to calm herself.
She could tell he was as nervous as she was. She appreciated the fact that he wasn’t lying to her.
“All hell is breaking loose. But I think if we stay up here, we should be okay.”
“I can’t believe this is happening.” She needed to close her eyes and pretend she was anywhere but here.
“You ever been to Baja? Mexico?” He started to talk randomly, distracting her, she knew. “There’s this great place down there. Twenty bucks a night. Hammock on the back deck. Beers are fifty cents. Twenty five cents at happy hour.” She could almost imagine herself there with him, but it wasn’t enough. “You ever been to Thailand? Thailand’s great…”
“Michael, if you’re trying to calm me down, you’re doing a terrible job.”
She had to laugh. He was actually doing better than she would’ve thought possible. She would rather be anywhere but here, but the thought of the two of them in Mexico was intoxicating.
“But I am trying,” he pointed out.
Her smile faded and she couldn’t help but wonder how they had ended up in this position. Why was he here?
“Why are you here?”
“What do you mean?”
His guard was instantly up and she frowned.
“Crawling around in the ceiling, risking your life.”
“You needed help, and I, uh, I came to find you.”
She felt the truth of his words instinctively.
“How’d you know where to go?” She felt the full importance of his words. She knew he’d just admitted to something deeper than a casual flirtation with one of the only women he’d see for the next five years.
“When everything went off in A-Wing, the COs left the station and I saw you on the monitor. One of my first assignments on PI, we were up here cleaning out toxic mold. It took days, so I’m kind of familiar with the layout.”
It sounded plausible enough. It wasn’t something she wanted to dwell on and she was getting antsy, sitting here, when who knows what was happening below them.
“Hope you wore a mask,” she said absently as she prepared to go again.
“Excuse me.”
“To prevent inhalation. Mold can be really dangerous.”
He paused for a moment.
“Yeah, I wore a mask.”
***
Her words from before about a mask pounded through his head. It was an odd thing for her say and he wondered if she actually believed him. He suddenly realized he had put the entire escape into her hands when he chose to come after her.
They ran through the hallway and his mind shoved aside the memory of her waist beneath his fingers and her eyes piercing his and searched through the invisible blueprints in his head, not daring to corroborate them on his tattoo.
“We can’t go this way,” he said, frantically looking around.
“We have to. There’s no other way to Visitation. This is it.”
“No, it’s not. It’s back this way.” He desperately pointed, wanting her to trust him without any questions he couldn’t answer.
“This won’t help.”
“Trust me,” he said, willing her to believe him.
His desperation to successfully save her suddenly heightened. He realized something in that moment that made it incredibly hard to continue this charade. He couldn’t lose her. If he knew she was safe it would rest like a blanket over him. Only then could he deal with his other problems.
***
“Michael, if you’re wrong…” She believed him. She didn’t know why, but she did.
“We don’t have time,” he said, turning.
She ran after him, knowing her life was still in his hands.
He came to a juncture and turned.
“That’s it.” She sighed in relief at the door. She started to run toward it when a thought pounded into her brain. She was out of danger but he… “Wait, I can’t leave you here.”
“You don’t have a choice. I’m one of the bad guys, remember?” He smiled at the irony.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“Go back to my cell, stay out of the way.”
A red dot hovered on his chest and her eyes widened in horror.
“Michael…” she whispered.
“What?”
“They see us.”
He looked down and she could see the wheels desperately turning.
“You have to go,” he said.
He was being self sacrificing, but she wasn’t going to let him.
“I can’t... they’ll kill you.”
“Go out the door. I’ll drop to the floor.”
“They’re sharp shooters, Michael. They won’t miss.”
Noises of the pursuing inmates came from behind them.
“That’s why you can’t stay here. Go.” He pushed her out the door and dropped to the floor.
She ran and then anxiously peered through the door, trying to ascertain his safety. She then hurried toward the tents set up on the lawn, wanting to be the first to examine the list of the dead and injured. Her brain was reeling with what had just happened and the memory of the look on his face and the feeling she’d had when she looked up and saw his face and outstretched hand.
April 24
They sat silently for a while, the weight of the events of the previous day making talk unnecessary. There was an unmentionable bond between them now and each felt it.
“After what you went through in the riot, I thought you might take a day off.”
He looked glad she hadn’t, relieved he could see for himself that she was okay.
“I'm fine. I, uh...I couldn't find anybody to cover for me anyway.”
Her attempt at a joke fell flat and she didn’t try to improve it. Her feelings for him had grown so strong through the riots, but the fact that he had lied to her was something she couldn’t ignore. She knew she should probably be talking to the Warden and trying to figure this man out, but his selfless actions stopped her.
“I hope you don't feel like you owe me anything.”
“I do. I'm, uh...I really appreciate what you did for me.”
Her voice was hard and she wasn’t surprised when he asked.
“But?”
“But you told me that you had been up in the crawlspace for PI, and PI was never assigned to go there.” She wanted to find this out from him. She wanted assurance that she didn’t have to worry about trusting him.
“We're done here, right?”
His face was instantly closed, but something in his eyes made her think he hated doing it as much as she hated for him to do it.
“Michael, don't be like that. I just...I just want some answers.”
It was stupid to feel so crushed that he was shooting her down.
“Thanks for the shot, Doc.” He walked away.
She sat there hating the fact that she cared, hating the fact that she felt the need to dig. But dig she would, because he’d lied to her.
April 25
She felt like she had a secret, like she was the one lying to him. It was an interesting feeling because she technically wasn’t doing anything wrong. Yes, she knew he did not want her looking into his affairs, but if he was going to continue to penetrate into her life and make her feel like she needed him, then she was going to understand what she was getting into.
“Are you feeling all right today?” he asked feebly.
After walking out on her yesterday, she wasn’t surprised he was being cautious.
“Just fine. How about you? Any new injuries I need to look at?”
“Nope. I’m flying under the radar as much as possible. I don’t…I don’t want to get into any situations I can’t handle.”
He was choosing his words carefully as he always did, but she smiled inwardly. She could tell he was trying to apologize for the day before.
“Michael, the day you won’t get into those kinds of situations is a day I don’t think I’ll ever see. All you’re doing is delaying.” She softened her harsh words with a smile and a teasing tone.
“Maybe I’ll delay a long time,” he said, lighting up at her teasing tone.
“I hope so. This infirmary isn’t built for the really big things, you know. You wouldn’t want to be shipped off out of my care now?”
“I only like red headed doctors,” he said.
“I was thinking of dying my hair,” she said thoughtfully, deliberately.
A slow smile spread across his face.
“What color?”
“Ooh,” she deliberated. “Bleach blonde.”
“I only like bleached blonde doctors.”
“Then it’s probably good that I’m not one,” she said. “You, sir, are free to go.”
“I’ll see you later,” he said, holding her gaze before leaving.
“Later, Michael.”
She shook her head and got ready to go for the day. She had an appointment with a psychiatrist.
April 26
She was going to walk on by. After all, wouldn’t she be seeing him later? It just seemed too perfect an opportunity to pass up. She swallowed hard and approached the fence.
“I, uh...I just wanted you to know that if you're looking for someone to talk to in here, you're not alone. It's part of my job to counsel inmates and help them with their problems.”
She could see his back stiffen and knew it was useless. She winced; couldn’t she have eased into it rather than just blurted it out?
“I got things pretty well figured out.”
He wouldn’t even turn to face her and his voice was expressionless.
“I sort of backed into some information about you. I hope you don't mind, but you have to understand that there's a reason I became a doctor. It's in my nature to wanna help. From what I understand, it's in your nature, too.” If anything, she could practically see walls sliding up over walls. “You did a lot of good things before you were in here. A lot of community work, a lot of charity work. What happened?”
“The man you're talking about died the moment I stepped inside these walls.”
His voice was cold, quite unlike the usual way he addressed her. Usually there was a certain warmth when he spoke to her. Not today.
“All right.” She walked away, berating herself for not handling it better and cursing whatever it was that kept him so close-mouthed.
***
He shuddered and tried to calm himself down. He would have to face her later. He loved her tenacity; he hated the way it made him have to treat her. Not that he particularly wanted to talk about his need to help people. That had been something between him and his therapist and he was well aware of the implications of his condition. It had already been a struggle in here more times than he could count. Too many times.
Suddenly, he wanted to tell her. He wanted to lay his head down on her shoulder and cry and tell her everything and beg for her to make it okay.
None of which would help his brother, so he resisted the urge to call out to her and focused his attention on his problems.
***
He wouldn’t talk to her, he couldn’t. He’d jeopardized way too much because of her.
He sat down and she silently worked, not pushing him. He was grateful and hated it at the same time.
His brother was worth it. That’s what he told himself when he walked out the door, having not said a single word the whole time.
April 27
“How’s the medical biz?” he asked, determinedly casual, as he walked in the door.
She had been intent on her paperwork and hadn’t seen him.
“Oh, Michael, you scared me.” She stood up, flustered. “We’re in booming business. Have a seat.”
She’d been nervous about seeing him today. She didn’t know if he would shut her out for good this time. Probably for the better, though definitely not what she wanted.
“Well, I’m glad to be contributing,” he said, his voice as warm as ever.
“The insulin would have been fine. No need for the physical mutilation,” she murmured absently, checking through his file. It really wasn’t necessary; she had it memorized by now.
To her surprise, he laughed. It edged on the hysterical and she was a tad concerned.
“Sorry,” he said, containing himself. “But that’s really very funny.”
“No, I don’t think it is,” she said, sticking in the needle, a tad irritated. “But I’m glad you can distract yourself. You probably hold things in too much.”
“Perhaps,” he admitted. “But sometimes it’s necessary.”
“Sometimes it’s dangerous,” she replied, standing up. She didn’t feel like playing his games today. She would feel more comfortable with this hot/cold act he pulled if she knew how it worked and what triggered it. “You’re set.”
“Have a good day, Doctor,” he said softly to her retreating back.
April 28
He wanted to tell her everything. He often thought about what it would be like had they simply met at college, drunk at a bar. Easier, safer, faster.
He chuckled inwardly at the idea that she thought it was dangerous to be close to a con. She didn’t know how dangerous it was for him to be close to her. If she knew she could ruin everything.
She slowly unwrapped the bandage from his foot. There was less pain now.
“When I get out I think I’ll miss your bedside manner. Think they’ll let me choose you as my medical?” he said jokingly.
“Hopefully you won’t need my bedside manner when you’re away from the gardening shears and basketball elbows.”
He admired her tenacity in pinning down evasiveness.
“You say that like I sought them out,” he said curiously.
“You’re not what you seem, Michael Scofield. In here, your charm and manners place you above the rest. But I’ve seen you with the guards and the other cons. I’ve seen what the results are of your relationships with them. You’re two men and that’s why I have such a difficult time believing that there are answers to the enigma of your personality. It seems like the better you is in play when you’re in this room, but how am I to know if this isn’t the show you put on?”
“You can’t know.” He glanced over at the grate. “I can’t even know.”
He said it quietly and she didn’t push it, for which he was grateful. They were having too many serious conversations.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” was all she said.
April 29
“I’ve decided something,” he said when he came into the infirmary.
“Out with it,” she said, her tone belying the harshness of her words.
“I’ve been holding back on my feelings. I don’t want to be two people. Ask me a question, Doc. A personal question. I won’t promise to answer, but just ask away.”
She looked incredulous that he was actually serious about revealing himself, but the idea was intriguing, she would have to admit, he certainly thought it was.
“Favorite color?” she asked.
“Brown,” he answered promptly.
“Really?” She raised her eyebrows.
“No lie. Next question?”
“Favorite memory of your brother?” She started to push deeper.
His face grew quieter, but he answered gamely.
“The night after I got out of foster care and he came home from juvie. He made me dinner, just like mom used to.” He didn’t elaborate further. It wasn’t a memory he wanted to dwell on just now.
“What was your favorite class in college?”
“Engineering.” His smile reappeared.
“Engineering? Plain old engineering? No special acronyms in the front?”
“Not plain,” he said and laughed. “But yes.”
“Longest relationship?” She was blushing when she asked the question.
He ducked his head.
“Two years.”
“Who and how old were you?”
“Her name was Monica. I was twenty-two.”
“Where’d you meet?” she asked.
“Cubs game.”
“You bought your tickets?” she asked suddenly.
“Yeah, something me and Linc did when things got rough.”
“Did you love her?” she asked, turning wholly away to dispose of the bandages.
He paused for a second but she didn’t turn around. He sucked in a deep breath, wondering if he should’ve started this game.
“Yeah, as much as I could.”
“What does that mean?” she turned around and looked at him briefly before picking up her clipboard and appearing to study it.
“It means…” He didn’t know what it meant. There was no way he could explain what had happened to her. “It means that I…hold things in too much.”
***
He caught her gaze and held it. The warning signs seemed to almost visibly flash at her and she blinked.
“My turn for a question,” he said softly, making his tone light.
A half smile urged her face upwards.
“Ask away.”
He leaned forward deliberately.
“What was your first impression of me?”
A genuine blush started on her face and a million lies raced through her head. She cleared her throat and looked down.
“Uh, why can’t the…prisoners be more ugly?”
He laughed softly in his throat and she liked the sound.
“Sorry to disappoint.”
She dared to look at his face and knew it was a mistake. She heard herself speaking from a long distance away.
“I’m going to get backed up, so you’re good to go.”
“Thanks, Doc. I feel better.” He slid off the table and headed for the door, a smile on his face.
She took a few breaths and went to call her next patient.
April 30
She blushed when she saw his name on her appointment sheet. She blushed when she spotted him through the glass as the badge took off his cuffs. She blushed when he came into the room and sat down.
He smirked slightly, but apparently felt compassion over her embarrassment and didn’t say anything.
“How’s the toe?” she asked, wanting to stay business-like today.
“You mean the lack of toes? I’m sure wherever they are, they’re fine.”
“Very funny. I’m sure you have them cracking up over in Gen Pop.”
“I don’t think my wit translates very well over there. Maybe you’re the only one who understands me,” he said in a mock-sad tone.
“Which probably says something about me,” she returned. “The foot looks clean, but we’ll check it again tomorrow, then we might be able to leave it alone for awhile.”
“Thanks, you’re probably only saying it so I won’t have to take off my shoe anymore.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said in a comforting tone. “I’m sure the smell is entirely genetic.”
“Really?” he queried, the corners of his mouth quivering with a smile. “I’ll be sure and tell Linc you said that. The next time you give him a check up, be careful.”
“Surely, you care more for me than-” she stopped abruptly. Not a good area of conversation, even if she had meant it in fun. “In that hypothetical situation where reality doesn’t exist,” she said softly and finished his shot.
She turned away and he let her have a few seconds to compose herself, but she wished she could study his reaction.
“You know,” he said carefully. “The non-hypothetical situation makes such things unlikely and unwise, but reality doesn’t have to be a sterile, unfeeling place.”
“Which sounds pretty,” she said grudgingly. “I don’t want to make a big deal. Have a good day, Michael.”
“Sara.” She turned, wanting to reprimand him, but not seeming to be able to. It was the first time she’d ever heard him say her name. “You too.”
He had a way of delivering anti-climaxes that vexed and excited her.
Rating: PG-13
Summary. Every scene of Michael and Sara in S1. Even those they didn't show us
Disclaimer: I don't own Prison Break. Some lines and the title are from the show
Part One
April 19
“So you heard,” he said as he walked into the infirmary.
She looked up from where she’d been staring blankly at her desk.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, you must have heard about my transfer. You look so gloomy.”
She had in fact heard about it. It had made her gloomy, but she resented his presumption of the fact even if he was just trying to be funny.
“Michael, prisoners get transferred all the time. The only reason I would feel glum is because you won’t get such good medical care now.”
“Not if you’re not giving it,” he agreed, sitting down in his usual place.
“Now you won’t be able to keep making up excuses to see me,” she teased, pulling on her gloves.
He took off his shoe and sock and wiggled his existing toes at her.
“Did you ever hear of an inmate who would cut off his toes to be able to see you twice in one day, Doc? That’s gotta be true love.”
“A little masochistic for my taste,” she countered and bent to unwrap the bandage.
He smiled slightly and then hesitated.
“I am…working on not being transferred.”
“Is that so?” she said, glad her face was hidden, though her hands had a slight twitch in them as they examined his foot.
“Yeah, I have…needs and wants that can only be met in this particular prison.”
She was really glad he couldn’t see her face.
“Well,” she said, straightening up. “I hope for your sake that you’re able to work it. I’m going to go get your shot.”
“I’ll be right here.”
She cast a quick glance at him over her shoulder. Their eyes connected briefly before the door closed behind her.
The shot was administered expeditiously and Michael was soon on his way out the door.
“I hope I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said softly.
“I-I hope so, too,” she said as casually as possible.
April 20
“You managed it after all,” she said as he walked into the infirmary. She didn’t say how relieved she’d felt when she saw Pope stop the transfer at the gate, but it was all she could think about.
“Not really my doing,” he said as he sat down. “All the Pope.”
She could see the immense relief on his face.
“Hang on a sec while I get your shot.”
She thought she knew why the relief was so vivid. It was silly how she felt slightly put off that she wasn’t part of the reason, but now she knew that Lincoln Burrows was his brother. The fact still surprised her. They didn’t seem to have anything in common. It made her itch to find out more, but she didn’t want to talk about it with Michael just yet. She shouldn’t even want to talk about it at all.
***
“You’re a little jumpy today,” he observed, still high on the fact that he was here to see her at all. “That glad to have me here?”
“I’m always pleased to be able to treat my patients,” she said primly.
He chuckled slightly.
“Watch it, Doc. I might believe you.” She rolled her chair back to grab his file on her desk and he watched her hair as, through the motion, it tried to work its way free of her barrette. It was distractingly beautiful and he had to force his eyes to return to her face. “I like your clip,” he said casually.
She looked up in surprise.
“Uh, thank you. A present.”
“Nice taste.”
He liked to know these kinds of things about people. He especially liked to know them about her and it was becoming increasingly difficult to think that it was for platonic reasons. Or that the only reason he was glad to be staying here was for the plan and his brother.
April 21
“Morning, Michael.”
Their time together was routine, they could do it in their sleep. It left plenty of time for other thoughts, other occupations, during the short time he spent with her each day.
“Eyebrow, toe, then shot?” he asked casually.
“Let’s mix it up a bit. Let’s be wild and do the eyebrow last.”
She reached for the bandages on his toe and suppressed a smile. There were disturbing things about this man and there were questions that plagued her; but that didn’t change the fact that the time he spent in the infirmary was the brightest of her day.
“Am I gonna have to report you for having too much fun on the job?” he said jovially.
“Contusions aren’t exactly my idea of fun. Though, apparently, they’re yours,” she said pointedly.
“It was an accident,” he said quickly. A little too quickly.
“Maybe,” she said and continued on with her work. “But if Haywire were my cellie maybe I would be afraid he’d do something like that to me. Even be afraid enough to break the code and actually report it.”
He didn’t say anything. She wasn’t surprised, but she wanted to present the last part of her suspicions. She started to rewrap his foot.
“A bit rough there, Doc,” he said softly.
She wondered if he was speaking just about his foot. She was digging too deeply and he didn’t want to continue the conversation.
“Sorry. Anyway, I wouldn’t even be surprised if I inflicted such a wound on myself to get out of the situation without asking for favors or hurting anyone.”
“Do you think it might rain later?” he asked pointedly.
She shook her head ruefully.
“Fine. I won’t say anything more. But, Michael, I want to help you.”
He looked at her carefully. She met his gaze squarely, trying to convey her sincerity.
“I know. I wish I…I wish you could.”
“You’re an interesting man,” she said, sighing.
“You’ve no idea,” he said, his tone lightening.
She felt a slight thrill inside.
“No, not likely to either.”
She quickly administered his shot and took the bandage off his eyebrow. She’d accomplished one thing today and that was a confirmation of her suspicions about Haywire. His refusal to speak said it all. But there were more questions and they would have to be saved for another time. If they should be asked at all.
“Sa-Doctor, be sure to wear a raincoat tomorrow. Just in case,” he said as he exited, casting a smile over his shoulder.
She couldn’t stop her own from forming.
April 22
“You know, you said it was going to rain, and there I was, with a raincoat and no rain,” Sara said as Michael walked in to the infirmary.
“I only asked if you thought it might rain,” he returned. “It’s a little too hot for it to be raining.”
She didn’t want to think about why he’d said it in the first place so she just resumed her doctor role and cared for her patient. There had been something else bothering her for a few days now, the question of his brother. She knew it shouldn’t matter, but she wondered why he hadn’t told her about his connection to Lincoln. After talking to Lincoln, she felt even more sympathy for the brothers than she knew she should have for any inmate.
“I’ll just listen to the weather man from now on,” she replied.
“So tell me about Northwest,” he said, after frowning slightly.
She wondered how much he could tell about what she was thinking. His gazes always made her feel transparent. She resented it because it certainly wasn’t like he told her everything.
“Uh, not much to tell. I was pretty busy studying most of the time I was there. How about you?” she said, happy to change the subject.
“I was, coincidentally, also studying. There was this…little blonde who always sat on the bench outside my class. She’d stare into the sky with the strangest look on her face. She’d draw sometimes. She fascinated me so I’d leave notes and puzzles for her on the bench. She’d figure them out eventually, well, mostly. I guess I didn’t have a lot to do back then.”
She was amazed at the degree of jealousy that coursed through her.
“Yeah, sounds like a real bore,” she said as she swabbed his skin, without really paying attention to what she was doing. “I only left puzzles for other redheads, so you can see how my time was much more interesting.”
“Redheads do have a certain…bewitching quality to them,” he said slowly and she felt his gaze resting on her hair.
“Oh, we do. There are a few things you’d be surprised we redheads are best at or get to achieve given our genetics.”
“Really. Do tell.”
“I shouldn’t give away the secrets. I’ll just let you…ponder on it.” She felt a slight shiver go through his skin and wondered if she’d really meant to draw those words out the way she had. She was dangerously close to inappropriate conversation with an inmate. “Now you better go before I give away all my trade secrets.”
She stood in the center of the room, trying to clear her head and reminded herself that she’d been meaning to ask him about his brother and instead…she didn’t even know what had just happened.
***
“Maybe you’ll tell me one tomorrow,” he said hopefully as he got up to go.
If not she’d better talk about something like cotton balls or a new way of sterilization because she would make him go crazy otherwise. The way she had been talking intrigued him and his brain started to work faster than normal, if that was possible. It was incredibly unfair for her to look the way she did anyway. Prison doctors should be required to be at retirement age and more than usually ugly for their age.
“Maybe. All under doctor/patient privilege of course.”
“Of course,” he almost whispered and left with an intent look in her direction.
He frowned slightly. Apart from the rather tantalizing things she was saying, she had clearly had something else on her mind. She was internalizing something. Not that he had any right to know about it. It wasn’t like he told her everything. Still, he suddenly ached to know everything she thought about.
April 23
She walked up to the fence where he was standing just on the other side. She looked determined and he gathered now was the time that she was going to choose to say whatever it was she had been thinking about before.
“Hottest April on record,” she said.
“Global warming,” was his explanation. He was just glad to see her. She looked amazing in blue.
“Probably. You got a minute?”
“About five years’ worth.” He was determined to be casual.
After all, they weren’t in their proper roles or their proper location. It could be a dangerous conversation and she appeared flustered.
“Sorry. Right. Um, you never told me Lincoln Burrows was your brother.” He felt a wall close over his face. He hated it, but it was necessary.
“Never came up,” he said flatly.
“Right. And I'm curious if that isn’t because of my father, the governor? He may not be the one pulling the switch, but we both know he has the power to grant clemency and he won’t. And he never does.”
He gave her the truth, even if it was a different truth than that which he could have said. It still felt good to tell her something real.
“My old man was an abusive drunk who abandoned his family. I don’t judge anyone by their father’s actions, or inactions, if that was your concern.”
Something in her face relaxed and he could tell that it had really been bothering her. She smiled more genuinely.
“Just so you know, I don’t agree with his politics and I'm sorry about your brother.”
“I appreciate that.” He wished he could truly express his thanks.
She turned to leave; he knew she didn’t have any other reason to stay. But she turned back around again suddenly and spoke rapidly.
“Hey, this isn’t much, um…I have to give Lincoln a weekly check-up now. If you want I could schedule those visits to end right before you come in for your shots. That way you could at least see each other, even if it was just in passing.”
Several feelings of gratitude, desire, and helplessness washed over him at her offer, but all he could say was,
“Thank you.” He watched her walk away. “That is a good woman,” he said quietly to himself before going to finish the work he’d started.
***
“Feels cool in here,” he commented, hopping up on the table.
“I guess it would make you more chipper to be in here where at least there’s some air flow,” she commented wryly.
He shifted on the table, feeling more like a little boy than a man who a rap sheet.
“Inmates are pretty restless,” he said. “It’s nice to be out of there.”
“I’m sorry you only get fifteen minutes before you have to go back.”
“You act real clumsy you can make it twenty.” He resisted the urge to wink at her. His success with the air conditioning acted like an intoxicant on him. It made him wish that for just an hour, the two of them could be away from the prison, no pasts, no stigmas, on their own.
“Well, the heat does make me feel a touch sluggish,” she said casually, then winked at him.
He grinned at the way their thoughts seemed to meld.
“Slowest Doc, any prison, anywhere,” he said.
“I’ll try and take that as a compliment.”
She appeared to be doing her best to work slowly. For his sake or hers, he wondered.
“It’s a great day to go swimming. What you do you say we cut out of here?” he asked, grinning.
She laughed out loud.
“Am I supposed to smuggle you out under my coat?”
“I wouldn’t advise the coat, it’s a little hot. Might look suspicious.”
“Oh, really? What do you suggest then?” she asked.
“I’ll have to think on it.” Their conversation coming so close to the area of escape made him a little uncomfortable, but it was going well and he ignored the discomfort. “I’m sure we could work something out.”
The phone rang and she had him hold his bandage in place.
“You work on it while I get this, huh?”
She left and he awkwardly hopped to the grate and worked his chemist magic on the drain.
“Was that an escape artist offering his help?” he asked when she came back.
She gavehim a small smile and hurriedly checked his eyebrow.
“I’m sorry, Michael. Looks like the whistle’s been blown. There’s an inmate suffering from heat exhaustion and I have to go over to B-wing.”
“We can wait,” he said softly, almost to himself.
Despite her sudden hurry, she looked to be reflecting on his words.
“Goodbye, Michael.”
“Bye, Doc.”
He wasn’t nearly as euphoric as he had been when he came in, but they had spent the entire time in conversation without any awkward questions and he counted it a personal breakthrough.
***
His brain was on one track: save her. Nothing else mattered. Even the thought of T-Bag staring into the gaping hole in the wall of his cell didn’t factor in. In fact, until the moment of saving he forgot that the way he saw himself and the way she saw him was different. He acted on instinct, using the words he thought would reach her.
“Come on. Grab my hand. Come on. I’ve got you. Are you all right?” He couldn’t blame her for flinching. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. See these pipes? We’re going to stay on them. They go through the wall and over the hallway and they’re going to get us out of here. All you have to do is follow me. Okay?”
She was shaking so much it was like she couldn’t concentrate on his words. Hopefully deep down she knew he was the man she met with every day and he wasn’t like the other cons.
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Let’s go.” They crawled along and his brain started to retire from survival mode and wonder how he was going to explain his presence to her. His number one thought was still her safety, but reality had started to set in. “Are you all right?”
“I’m okay...I’m fine.” He knew it was a lie, as if she didn’t want to appear weak, but she couldn’t keep it up forever, and she appeared to realize that as much as he did. “You know what, I need a minute. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not much further.”
He didn’t want to make her feel worse, but there wasn’t a lot of time.
“Just a sec,” she said.
“You know, we can stop if you want. Catch our breath.” He’d always been good at calming LJ down in moments of crisis when he was young. Maybe he could use the same tactics here.
“Okay. Yeah, I could use a minute.”
They settled against the wall and he tried to reassure her as best he could. It helped him to hear it, too.
“Things should be winding down around now. Pretty soon, the powers that be will break in and it will all be over. It’s just a matter of time.”
***
“What’s happening in A-Wing?” she asked, trying to calm herself.
She could tell he was as nervous as she was. She appreciated the fact that he wasn’t lying to her.
“All hell is breaking loose. But I think if we stay up here, we should be okay.”
“I can’t believe this is happening.” She needed to close her eyes and pretend she was anywhere but here.
“You ever been to Baja? Mexico?” He started to talk randomly, distracting her, she knew. “There’s this great place down there. Twenty bucks a night. Hammock on the back deck. Beers are fifty cents. Twenty five cents at happy hour.” She could almost imagine herself there with him, but it wasn’t enough. “You ever been to Thailand? Thailand’s great…”
“Michael, if you’re trying to calm me down, you’re doing a terrible job.”
She had to laugh. He was actually doing better than she would’ve thought possible. She would rather be anywhere but here, but the thought of the two of them in Mexico was intoxicating.
“But I am trying,” he pointed out.
Her smile faded and she couldn’t help but wonder how they had ended up in this position. Why was he here?
“Why are you here?”
“What do you mean?”
His guard was instantly up and she frowned.
“Crawling around in the ceiling, risking your life.”
“You needed help, and I, uh, I came to find you.”
She felt the truth of his words instinctively.
“How’d you know where to go?” She felt the full importance of his words. She knew he’d just admitted to something deeper than a casual flirtation with one of the only women he’d see for the next five years.
“When everything went off in A-Wing, the COs left the station and I saw you on the monitor. One of my first assignments on PI, we were up here cleaning out toxic mold. It took days, so I’m kind of familiar with the layout.”
It sounded plausible enough. It wasn’t something she wanted to dwell on and she was getting antsy, sitting here, when who knows what was happening below them.
“Hope you wore a mask,” she said absently as she prepared to go again.
“Excuse me.”
“To prevent inhalation. Mold can be really dangerous.”
He paused for a moment.
“Yeah, I wore a mask.”
***
Her words from before about a mask pounded through his head. It was an odd thing for her say and he wondered if she actually believed him. He suddenly realized he had put the entire escape into her hands when he chose to come after her.
They ran through the hallway and his mind shoved aside the memory of her waist beneath his fingers and her eyes piercing his and searched through the invisible blueprints in his head, not daring to corroborate them on his tattoo.
“We can’t go this way,” he said, frantically looking around.
“We have to. There’s no other way to Visitation. This is it.”
“No, it’s not. It’s back this way.” He desperately pointed, wanting her to trust him without any questions he couldn’t answer.
“This won’t help.”
“Trust me,” he said, willing her to believe him.
His desperation to successfully save her suddenly heightened. He realized something in that moment that made it incredibly hard to continue this charade. He couldn’t lose her. If he knew she was safe it would rest like a blanket over him. Only then could he deal with his other problems.
***
“Michael, if you’re wrong…” She believed him. She didn’t know why, but she did.
“We don’t have time,” he said, turning.
She ran after him, knowing her life was still in his hands.
He came to a juncture and turned.
“That’s it.” She sighed in relief at the door. She started to run toward it when a thought pounded into her brain. She was out of danger but he… “Wait, I can’t leave you here.”
“You don’t have a choice. I’m one of the bad guys, remember?” He smiled at the irony.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“Go back to my cell, stay out of the way.”
A red dot hovered on his chest and her eyes widened in horror.
“Michael…” she whispered.
“What?”
“They see us.”
He looked down and she could see the wheels desperately turning.
“You have to go,” he said.
He was being self sacrificing, but she wasn’t going to let him.
“I can’t... they’ll kill you.”
“Go out the door. I’ll drop to the floor.”
“They’re sharp shooters, Michael. They won’t miss.”
Noises of the pursuing inmates came from behind them.
“That’s why you can’t stay here. Go.” He pushed her out the door and dropped to the floor.
She ran and then anxiously peered through the door, trying to ascertain his safety. She then hurried toward the tents set up on the lawn, wanting to be the first to examine the list of the dead and injured. Her brain was reeling with what had just happened and the memory of the look on his face and the feeling she’d had when she looked up and saw his face and outstretched hand.
April 24
They sat silently for a while, the weight of the events of the previous day making talk unnecessary. There was an unmentionable bond between them now and each felt it.
“After what you went through in the riot, I thought you might take a day off.”
He looked glad she hadn’t, relieved he could see for himself that she was okay.
“I'm fine. I, uh...I couldn't find anybody to cover for me anyway.”
Her attempt at a joke fell flat and she didn’t try to improve it. Her feelings for him had grown so strong through the riots, but the fact that he had lied to her was something she couldn’t ignore. She knew she should probably be talking to the Warden and trying to figure this man out, but his selfless actions stopped her.
“I hope you don't feel like you owe me anything.”
“I do. I'm, uh...I really appreciate what you did for me.”
Her voice was hard and she wasn’t surprised when he asked.
“But?”
“But you told me that you had been up in the crawlspace for PI, and PI was never assigned to go there.” She wanted to find this out from him. She wanted assurance that she didn’t have to worry about trusting him.
“We're done here, right?”
His face was instantly closed, but something in his eyes made her think he hated doing it as much as she hated for him to do it.
“Michael, don't be like that. I just...I just want some answers.”
It was stupid to feel so crushed that he was shooting her down.
“Thanks for the shot, Doc.” He walked away.
She sat there hating the fact that she cared, hating the fact that she felt the need to dig. But dig she would, because he’d lied to her.
April 25
She felt like she had a secret, like she was the one lying to him. It was an interesting feeling because she technically wasn’t doing anything wrong. Yes, she knew he did not want her looking into his affairs, but if he was going to continue to penetrate into her life and make her feel like she needed him, then she was going to understand what she was getting into.
“Are you feeling all right today?” he asked feebly.
After walking out on her yesterday, she wasn’t surprised he was being cautious.
“Just fine. How about you? Any new injuries I need to look at?”
“Nope. I’m flying under the radar as much as possible. I don’t…I don’t want to get into any situations I can’t handle.”
He was choosing his words carefully as he always did, but she smiled inwardly. She could tell he was trying to apologize for the day before.
“Michael, the day you won’t get into those kinds of situations is a day I don’t think I’ll ever see. All you’re doing is delaying.” She softened her harsh words with a smile and a teasing tone.
“Maybe I’ll delay a long time,” he said, lighting up at her teasing tone.
“I hope so. This infirmary isn’t built for the really big things, you know. You wouldn’t want to be shipped off out of my care now?”
“I only like red headed doctors,” he said.
“I was thinking of dying my hair,” she said thoughtfully, deliberately.
A slow smile spread across his face.
“What color?”
“Ooh,” she deliberated. “Bleach blonde.”
“I only like bleached blonde doctors.”
“Then it’s probably good that I’m not one,” she said. “You, sir, are free to go.”
“I’ll see you later,” he said, holding her gaze before leaving.
“Later, Michael.”
She shook her head and got ready to go for the day. She had an appointment with a psychiatrist.
April 26
She was going to walk on by. After all, wouldn’t she be seeing him later? It just seemed too perfect an opportunity to pass up. She swallowed hard and approached the fence.
“I, uh...I just wanted you to know that if you're looking for someone to talk to in here, you're not alone. It's part of my job to counsel inmates and help them with their problems.”
She could see his back stiffen and knew it was useless. She winced; couldn’t she have eased into it rather than just blurted it out?
“I got things pretty well figured out.”
He wouldn’t even turn to face her and his voice was expressionless.
“I sort of backed into some information about you. I hope you don't mind, but you have to understand that there's a reason I became a doctor. It's in my nature to wanna help. From what I understand, it's in your nature, too.” If anything, she could practically see walls sliding up over walls. “You did a lot of good things before you were in here. A lot of community work, a lot of charity work. What happened?”
“The man you're talking about died the moment I stepped inside these walls.”
His voice was cold, quite unlike the usual way he addressed her. Usually there was a certain warmth when he spoke to her. Not today.
“All right.” She walked away, berating herself for not handling it better and cursing whatever it was that kept him so close-mouthed.
***
He shuddered and tried to calm himself down. He would have to face her later. He loved her tenacity; he hated the way it made him have to treat her. Not that he particularly wanted to talk about his need to help people. That had been something between him and his therapist and he was well aware of the implications of his condition. It had already been a struggle in here more times than he could count. Too many times.
Suddenly, he wanted to tell her. He wanted to lay his head down on her shoulder and cry and tell her everything and beg for her to make it okay.
None of which would help his brother, so he resisted the urge to call out to her and focused his attention on his problems.
***
He wouldn’t talk to her, he couldn’t. He’d jeopardized way too much because of her.
He sat down and she silently worked, not pushing him. He was grateful and hated it at the same time.
His brother was worth it. That’s what he told himself when he walked out the door, having not said a single word the whole time.
April 27
“How’s the medical biz?” he asked, determinedly casual, as he walked in the door.
She had been intent on her paperwork and hadn’t seen him.
“Oh, Michael, you scared me.” She stood up, flustered. “We’re in booming business. Have a seat.”
She’d been nervous about seeing him today. She didn’t know if he would shut her out for good this time. Probably for the better, though definitely not what she wanted.
“Well, I’m glad to be contributing,” he said, his voice as warm as ever.
“The insulin would have been fine. No need for the physical mutilation,” she murmured absently, checking through his file. It really wasn’t necessary; she had it memorized by now.
To her surprise, he laughed. It edged on the hysterical and she was a tad concerned.
“Sorry,” he said, containing himself. “But that’s really very funny.”
“No, I don’t think it is,” she said, sticking in the needle, a tad irritated. “But I’m glad you can distract yourself. You probably hold things in too much.”
“Perhaps,” he admitted. “But sometimes it’s necessary.”
“Sometimes it’s dangerous,” she replied, standing up. She didn’t feel like playing his games today. She would feel more comfortable with this hot/cold act he pulled if she knew how it worked and what triggered it. “You’re set.”
“Have a good day, Doctor,” he said softly to her retreating back.
April 28
He wanted to tell her everything. He often thought about what it would be like had they simply met at college, drunk at a bar. Easier, safer, faster.
He chuckled inwardly at the idea that she thought it was dangerous to be close to a con. She didn’t know how dangerous it was for him to be close to her. If she knew she could ruin everything.
She slowly unwrapped the bandage from his foot. There was less pain now.
“When I get out I think I’ll miss your bedside manner. Think they’ll let me choose you as my medical?” he said jokingly.
“Hopefully you won’t need my bedside manner when you’re away from the gardening shears and basketball elbows.”
He admired her tenacity in pinning down evasiveness.
“You say that like I sought them out,” he said curiously.
“You’re not what you seem, Michael Scofield. In here, your charm and manners place you above the rest. But I’ve seen you with the guards and the other cons. I’ve seen what the results are of your relationships with them. You’re two men and that’s why I have such a difficult time believing that there are answers to the enigma of your personality. It seems like the better you is in play when you’re in this room, but how am I to know if this isn’t the show you put on?”
“You can’t know.” He glanced over at the grate. “I can’t even know.”
He said it quietly and she didn’t push it, for which he was grateful. They were having too many serious conversations.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” was all she said.
April 29
“I’ve decided something,” he said when he came into the infirmary.
“Out with it,” she said, her tone belying the harshness of her words.
“I’ve been holding back on my feelings. I don’t want to be two people. Ask me a question, Doc. A personal question. I won’t promise to answer, but just ask away.”
She looked incredulous that he was actually serious about revealing himself, but the idea was intriguing, she would have to admit, he certainly thought it was.
“Favorite color?” she asked.
“Brown,” he answered promptly.
“Really?” She raised her eyebrows.
“No lie. Next question?”
“Favorite memory of your brother?” She started to push deeper.
His face grew quieter, but he answered gamely.
“The night after I got out of foster care and he came home from juvie. He made me dinner, just like mom used to.” He didn’t elaborate further. It wasn’t a memory he wanted to dwell on just now.
“What was your favorite class in college?”
“Engineering.” His smile reappeared.
“Engineering? Plain old engineering? No special acronyms in the front?”
“Not plain,” he said and laughed. “But yes.”
“Longest relationship?” She was blushing when she asked the question.
He ducked his head.
“Two years.”
“Who and how old were you?”
“Her name was Monica. I was twenty-two.”
“Where’d you meet?” she asked.
“Cubs game.”
“You bought your tickets?” she asked suddenly.
“Yeah, something me and Linc did when things got rough.”
“Did you love her?” she asked, turning wholly away to dispose of the bandages.
He paused for a second but she didn’t turn around. He sucked in a deep breath, wondering if he should’ve started this game.
“Yeah, as much as I could.”
“What does that mean?” she turned around and looked at him briefly before picking up her clipboard and appearing to study it.
“It means…” He didn’t know what it meant. There was no way he could explain what had happened to her. “It means that I…hold things in too much.”
***
He caught her gaze and held it. The warning signs seemed to almost visibly flash at her and she blinked.
“My turn for a question,” he said softly, making his tone light.
A half smile urged her face upwards.
“Ask away.”
He leaned forward deliberately.
“What was your first impression of me?”
A genuine blush started on her face and a million lies raced through her head. She cleared her throat and looked down.
“Uh, why can’t the…prisoners be more ugly?”
He laughed softly in his throat and she liked the sound.
“Sorry to disappoint.”
She dared to look at his face and knew it was a mistake. She heard herself speaking from a long distance away.
“I’m going to get backed up, so you’re good to go.”
“Thanks, Doc. I feel better.” He slid off the table and headed for the door, a smile on his face.
She took a few breaths and went to call her next patient.
April 30
She blushed when she saw his name on her appointment sheet. She blushed when she spotted him through the glass as the badge took off his cuffs. She blushed when he came into the room and sat down.
He smirked slightly, but apparently felt compassion over her embarrassment and didn’t say anything.
“How’s the toe?” she asked, wanting to stay business-like today.
“You mean the lack of toes? I’m sure wherever they are, they’re fine.”
“Very funny. I’m sure you have them cracking up over in Gen Pop.”
“I don’t think my wit translates very well over there. Maybe you’re the only one who understands me,” he said in a mock-sad tone.
“Which probably says something about me,” she returned. “The foot looks clean, but we’ll check it again tomorrow, then we might be able to leave it alone for awhile.”
“Thanks, you’re probably only saying it so I won’t have to take off my shoe anymore.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said in a comforting tone. “I’m sure the smell is entirely genetic.”
“Really?” he queried, the corners of his mouth quivering with a smile. “I’ll be sure and tell Linc you said that. The next time you give him a check up, be careful.”
“Surely, you care more for me than-” she stopped abruptly. Not a good area of conversation, even if she had meant it in fun. “In that hypothetical situation where reality doesn’t exist,” she said softly and finished his shot.
She turned away and he let her have a few seconds to compose herself, but she wished she could study his reaction.
“You know,” he said carefully. “The non-hypothetical situation makes such things unlikely and unwise, but reality doesn’t have to be a sterile, unfeeling place.”
“Which sounds pretty,” she said grudgingly. “I don’t want to make a big deal. Have a good day, Michael.”
“Sara.” She turned, wanting to reprimand him, but not seeming to be able to. It was the first time she’d ever heard him say her name. “You too.”
He had a way of delivering anti-climaxes that vexed and excited her.
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Date: 2009-05-07 10:17 pm (UTC)Loveeee!
Can't wait for more! X
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Date: 2009-05-08 04:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-08 04:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-08 07:06 am (UTC)I can't tell you how much I enjoyed being back in the good old days in the infirmary. I loved to reread the well-know MiSa-moments, and it was a thrill to have a bunch of new meetings, with lovely MiSa-flirting and banter. You caught the characters right on spot, and I cold totally see this play out. Well done!
Looking forward to your next installment!Ina
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Date: 2009-05-08 06:23 pm (UTC)I miss the old days myself.
Next one up soon.
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Date: 2009-05-08 07:52 am (UTC)S1 was the best.
Thank you for writing this lovely pieces:)
I wonder if you post your stories somewhere else too?
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Date: 2009-05-08 06:22 pm (UTC)All my fic is archived here at my fic journal and I just cross posted it to michael/sara since I wanted to share it with you guys who aren't subscribing to
Thank you!
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Date: 2009-05-09 03:26 am (UTC)BTW - Did you ever think about posting this over at PrisonBreakFic.net? :)
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Date: 2009-05-09 05:06 am (UTC)Thank you!