Still Waiting, Always Waiting
Title: Still Waiting, Always Waiting
Author: happywriter06
Fandom: Prison Break
Rating: R (sexual situations)
Category: Het
Characters: Michael/Sara
Summary: Post-escape. Michael went back to prison after Lincoln’s exoneration. Michael and Sara go to Baja after he is released. Starting over is harder than they both thought.
Notes: This is my entry in the most recent Prison Break Fic Exchange.
msgenevieve requested a post-escape, non-fluff fic about Michael and Sara starting over in a beach shack and finding it not so easy. I don't own Michael or Sara or anything else PB related except my fics.
Chapter 1
It could all be so simple
But you'd rather make it hard
“Michael, talk to me. Please? Why won’t you talk to me?”
Loving you is like a battle
And we both end up with scars
“Do you get some kind of pleasure out of hurting me? Out of hurting yourself?”
Tell me, who I have to be
To gain some reciprocity
See, no one loves you more than me
And no one ever will
“I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know what to say anymore. ‘I love you’ isn’t enough. ‘I’ll always be here’ isn’t enough. Nothing is enough.”
Is this just a silly game
That forces you to act this way
Forces you to scream my name
Then pretend that you can't stay
“Why do you reach for me at night, pull me close and whisper my name but when morning comes you barely look me in the eye?”
Tell me, who I have to be
To gain some reciprocity
See, no one loves you more than me
And no one ever will
“Nothing is enough.”
No matter how I think we grow
You always seem to let me know
It ain't workin'
It ain't workin'
And when I try to walk away
You'd hurt yourself to make me stay
This is crazy
This is crazy
“I have to leave. I have to.”
I keep letting you back in
How can I explain myself
“You have to let me go because I won’t go on my own.”
As painful as this thing has been
I just can't be with no one else
See I know what we got to do
You let go and I'll let go too
'Cause no one's hurt me more than you
And no one ever will
“If you let go, I’ll let go. We have to let go.”
Care for me, care for me
You said you care for me
There for me, there for me
Said you'd be there for me
Cry for me, cry for me
You said you'd die for me
Give to me, give to me
Why won't you live for me*
“You promised things would be different. You’re right. This time it isn’t Linc who might die, it’s you who will die and you don’t want to be saved. You say you do but you don’t. You just say it because it’s what you're supposed to say. Because you think it’s what I want to hear. I know what it’s like to want to die. Why don’t you just be a man about it and drown yourself in the ocean. Walk in front of a bus. No, that would be too easy. You want the guilt to eat at you. You want it to slowly kill you because you think that’s what you deserve.
“You must think I deserve to watch it. Do you hate me that much? Why do you hate me Michael? Do you hate me because I don’t hate you? Do you think I’m crazy for still loving you? Maybe I am crazy to stay, to wish for a better tomorrow. My father said I was weak. Maybe he was right.
“I don’t know Michael. I just don’t want to believe that the past six years of my life waiting until now have been wasted. Tell me I haven’t wasted my time. Tell me things will get better.”
*Song title: ExFactor, Artist: Lauryn Hill, Album: The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill)
Chapter 2
Sara sits on the porch of the little yellow bungalow that sits on the beach. They had arrived two months ago. They stepped out of the cab to be greeted by the owners, an older Spanish couple without children who spoiled their guests as if they were their children. They followed the couple along the path shaded with palm trees to this one bedroom bungalow with so many windows covered by plantation shutters.
It was love at first sight since it was on the one set off on its own and closest to the sea. “Muy privado. Muy romantico para la pareja hermosa*,” Lazaro, the owner had said as he handed them the key. Perfect Sara and Michael thought as they exchanged knowing smiles.
She watches and listens to the crashing waves and lets the salty, humid air stick to her skin. It is four am and Michael is gone. She does not know where. She hates him or at least she wants to hate him. It would be so much easier if she could hate him.
She lies in the hammock in one of his t-shirts, barefoot with her hair in tangles. It is the only part of her that gives away the fact that she is not as relaxed as she appears. She has not relaxed in what seems like a very long time. The sun on her shoulders, the sand under her feet, and the salsa music in her ears do nothing to relax her. Every day she spends her time lost in thought, replaying each argument in her head.
She should be sleeping now but instead she replays back their most recent argument, if you can even call it that. An argument involves two people. He would probably call it an interrogation. He just sat there with steel blue eyes. The only evidence of his feelings were his white knuckles. She did the talking, the yelling, the crying, the everything.
As the scene replays in her mind, she thinks of that Lauryn Hill song she played over and over when she broke up with Ted. When she was with Ted, she had thought she had found the love you wait your whole adult life for only to lose it. How wrong she had been. How wrong she was to think that song described what she was going through at that time. Loving Ted is nothing compared to loving Michael Scofield.
She had been so full of hope when they stepped off the plane a few months ago into a new beginning filled with sunshine, white sandy beaches and fifty cent drafts at happy hour.
~~~~~Flashback~~~~~
The minute the owners leave, Michael and Sara kiss passionately, almost wildly.
“Maybe we should freshen up,” Michael says coming up for air.
“Okay,” Sara says breathlessly.
“You first.”
“How about together?” she asks before pulling him by his collar into another kiss.
“I like the way you think Ms. Tancredi,” he says into her neck before pulling her towards the bathroom.
“I did say good girls finish last.”
“So you did.”
As he prepares the shower, Sara does not wait. She slips out of her sandals, sundress and underwear in no time.
“Well, one of us in a hurry,” he says dropping his voice even lower as he takes in the sight of her naked form. She is not the least bit shy as she moves around giving him a better view of herself.
“Aren’t you feeling a little over dressed?” she asks seductively.
“Definitely,” he says. He pulls his shirt over his head while closing the short distance between them. He pulls her close to revel in the sensation of her warm breasts against his chest.
Sara thinks it is entirely possible to come just from his touch because the minute there is nothing between, not even air, she thinks she will lose it. “Pants,” Sara says through their kisses. He only pulls the center of his body away from hers in order to rid himself of his pants as fast as humanly possible.
Throwing slow and tender out the window once again, they kiss and grab and nibble like the other is going to disappear, like this is some dream and they need to enjoy it before morning comes. They step into the shower and spend little time washing. The hot water adding to the heat they already feel.
Six years. Six years is a long time to wait to run her nails along his back. To have him cup her butt in his hands. To trace a path from his earlobe to his chin. To do everything her dirty little mind had imagined over the years.
“Sara, I think we’re clean.”
“Me, too.”
They don’t bother to dry off after stepping out of the shower. He just picks her up and she wraps her legs around his waist, locking her hands and ankles behind him. The trip to the bedroom - one door down - is quite eventful since his eyes are more focused on her breasts than the way. He bumps into the bed and they fall on it. She pushes herself further up on the bed.
“What are you looking at?” she asks him as he pulls himself to his knees.
“You. You’re beautiful.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
“God, how I’ve waited for this moment.” He moves to the get off the bed so he can begin to kiss his way up her body.
“What are you doing?” Sara asks before he can do anything.
“Foreplay. What people don’t do that anymore?”
“They do. I just don’t need it.” She leans forward to pull him onto her. “Some other time.” When he is directly above her, she cups him in her hand and guides him to her entrance. He takes in a deep breath to hold himself. Sara smiles at the face he makes in an effort to stay in control. “Right there.”
As he inside of her, they stare into each other’s eyes. When he is all the way in, she closes her eyes to the sensation to savor it. She arches against him and then when the moment passes, her back meets the bed. He presses his face into her neck and she breathes him. He smells like lust, like sex and she cannot get enough.
“Sara,” he says, his voice tight.
She opens her eyes to look at him. “It’s ok,” she says stroking his cheek. “We’ve got the rest of our lives.”
She grips the sheets as he thrusts into her until he is spent and she is as satisfied as him.
~~~~~End Flashback~~~~~
How naïve they had been. They had believed the worst was over.
They argue about him sleeping on the floor because he is not used to the comfort of a real mattress. She is tired of waking up alone and tripping over him in the middle of the night. They argue about only going out at night when it is cooler so he can wear long sleeves comfortably.
“Are you a vampire now or something?”
“Very funny.”
“It wasn’t meant to be joke.”
Or if they go out during the day, they bypass the beach and the open air markets and anything else having to do with the outside for the darkness of a movie theatre. And that isn’t very often.
They argue about her pushing.
“Stop asking me if I’m ok.”
“I wouldn’t ask if you acted like you were ok.”
Every argument ends in a staring match. She’ll never be able to match the intensity of his stare but she tries to anyway.
Every morning as she stares at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, she tells herself, it’s just a phase. He’s readjusting to the world. It’ll be over one day.
“What are you still doing up?” he says walking up onto the porch. He leans against the doorframe, hands in pockets, and watches her. One long, slender leg hanging over the side to rock the hammock every now and again.
“I couldn’t sleep.” She does not look at him; she keeps her eyes on the ocean. “Where’d you go?”
“I decided to step in front of a bus.”
“I see that went well.”
“The buses don’t run this late.”
“Well, the ocean is right there.”
“I’d wait till the buses run. It’s quicker that way.”
She lies there and he stands in silence. Tired of waiting for him to say something, anything, she gets up to go inside. He grabs her hand and pulls her to him. His lips graze her ear as he says, “I don’t hate you.”
“Michael,” she says, her voice weak.
“And you’re not weak.”
“Don’t do this if…”
“If what?”
She pulls away to look in his eyes. “If tomorrow is going to be the same.”
“I promise it won’t.”
A promise of a better tomorrow. Isn’t this what I’ve been waiting for, she thinks to herself, as he tastes the salty air on her skin. She closes her eyes and falls under the spell of his touch because she wants, needs to believe that he will keep this promise.
*Muy privado. Muy romantico para la pareja hermosa = Very private. Very romantic for the beautiful couple.
Chapter 3
“Tomorrow won’t be the same because you are leaving. I feel like you said goodbye,” Sara says as she lies on her side, her naked back to Michael. Michael says nothing as he studies the early morning light filtering in through the shutters. “You don’t plan on coming back.”
“I can’t be what you need.”
“Where are you going? What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” He turns to speak to her back. “I don’t expect you to wait around this time.” He pulls his hand up to touch her baby smooth skin only to hesitate.
“Do you want me to?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want.”
“It shouldn’t but it does.”
“I can’t answer that.”
He wishes he were a better man, had been a better man. He finally understands how his brother kept falling back into V’s arms when they both believed he was bad for her.
“Do you want me to wait?”
“Sara…”
“Michael,” she says turning to him. She rests her head on her pillow. “Why don’t I just come with you?”
“Sara…”
“We should just be together. We’ve been through worse. Michael, running away isn’t the answer.”
He turns to her. They are mirror images of each other. “Why are you fighting so hard for this?”
“Why aren’t you?”
“Don’t answer my question with a question.”
“Because…because…” she looks down trying to find the words. When the words finally come, she looks back into his blue eyes. “I’ve waited my entire adult life for this love. I’ve loved before and none of it compares to this.” She fans her hand across his heart. “If I’m not going to let you go and you aren’t going to let me go, then we should be together working through this.”
“I don’t know.”
She closes the gap between them, to rest her head on his chest. “Let’s just give it a try, a real try in Chicago.”
“You deserve better.”
She rests her chin on his chest as she looks up at him. “Let’s say I do. I don’t want better. I want you. I know I’m every feminist’s worse nightmare. I don’t care. I’m not ready to let you go. I want to wake up next you every morning for the rest of my life. I want a baby with your eyes. I don’t want to die knowing that I missed out on something amazing.”
“I want those things, too. The thought of you waiting for me kept me going. I told myself if you waited then maybe I’m not such a bad guy after all. If you could forgive me, then I could forgive myself. Well, I wish it were true. I wish wanting those things were enough. I wish you were enough.”
“One day I will be enough, so I’ll be waiting by your side until then.”
Author: happywriter06
Fandom: Prison Break
Rating: R (sexual situations)
Category: Het
Characters: Michael/Sara
Summary: Post-escape. Michael went back to prison after Lincoln’s exoneration. Michael and Sara go to Baja after he is released. Starting over is harder than they both thought.
Notes: This is my entry in the most recent Prison Break Fic Exchange.
msgenevieve requested a post-escape, non-fluff fic about Michael and Sara starting over in a beach shack and finding it not so easy. I don't own Michael or Sara or anything else PB related except my fics.
Chapter 1
It could all be so simple
But you'd rather make it hard
“Michael, talk to me. Please? Why won’t you talk to me?”
Loving you is like a battle
And we both end up with scars
“Do you get some kind of pleasure out of hurting me? Out of hurting yourself?”
Tell me, who I have to be
To gain some reciprocity
See, no one loves you more than me
And no one ever will
“I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know what to say anymore. ‘I love you’ isn’t enough. ‘I’ll always be here’ isn’t enough. Nothing is enough.”
Is this just a silly game
That forces you to act this way
Forces you to scream my name
Then pretend that you can't stay
“Why do you reach for me at night, pull me close and whisper my name but when morning comes you barely look me in the eye?”
Tell me, who I have to be
To gain some reciprocity
See, no one loves you more than me
And no one ever will
“Nothing is enough.”
No matter how I think we grow
You always seem to let me know
It ain't workin'
It ain't workin'
And when I try to walk away
You'd hurt yourself to make me stay
This is crazy
This is crazy
“I have to leave. I have to.”
I keep letting you back in
How can I explain myself
“You have to let me go because I won’t go on my own.”
As painful as this thing has been
I just can't be with no one else
See I know what we got to do
You let go and I'll let go too
'Cause no one's hurt me more than you
And no one ever will
“If you let go, I’ll let go. We have to let go.”
Care for me, care for me
You said you care for me
There for me, there for me
Said you'd be there for me
Cry for me, cry for me
You said you'd die for me
Give to me, give to me
Why won't you live for me*
“You promised things would be different. You’re right. This time it isn’t Linc who might die, it’s you who will die and you don’t want to be saved. You say you do but you don’t. You just say it because it’s what you're supposed to say. Because you think it’s what I want to hear. I know what it’s like to want to die. Why don’t you just be a man about it and drown yourself in the ocean. Walk in front of a bus. No, that would be too easy. You want the guilt to eat at you. You want it to slowly kill you because you think that’s what you deserve.
“You must think I deserve to watch it. Do you hate me that much? Why do you hate me Michael? Do you hate me because I don’t hate you? Do you think I’m crazy for still loving you? Maybe I am crazy to stay, to wish for a better tomorrow. My father said I was weak. Maybe he was right.
“I don’t know Michael. I just don’t want to believe that the past six years of my life waiting until now have been wasted. Tell me I haven’t wasted my time. Tell me things will get better.”
*Song title: ExFactor, Artist: Lauryn Hill, Album: The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill)
Chapter 2
Sara sits on the porch of the little yellow bungalow that sits on the beach. They had arrived two months ago. They stepped out of the cab to be greeted by the owners, an older Spanish couple without children who spoiled their guests as if they were their children. They followed the couple along the path shaded with palm trees to this one bedroom bungalow with so many windows covered by plantation shutters.
It was love at first sight since it was on the one set off on its own and closest to the sea. “Muy privado. Muy romantico para la pareja hermosa*,” Lazaro, the owner had said as he handed them the key. Perfect Sara and Michael thought as they exchanged knowing smiles.
She watches and listens to the crashing waves and lets the salty, humid air stick to her skin. It is four am and Michael is gone. She does not know where. She hates him or at least she wants to hate him. It would be so much easier if she could hate him.
She lies in the hammock in one of his t-shirts, barefoot with her hair in tangles. It is the only part of her that gives away the fact that she is not as relaxed as she appears. She has not relaxed in what seems like a very long time. The sun on her shoulders, the sand under her feet, and the salsa music in her ears do nothing to relax her. Every day she spends her time lost in thought, replaying each argument in her head.
She should be sleeping now but instead she replays back their most recent argument, if you can even call it that. An argument involves two people. He would probably call it an interrogation. He just sat there with steel blue eyes. The only evidence of his feelings were his white knuckles. She did the talking, the yelling, the crying, the everything.
As the scene replays in her mind, she thinks of that Lauryn Hill song she played over and over when she broke up with Ted. When she was with Ted, she had thought she had found the love you wait your whole adult life for only to lose it. How wrong she had been. How wrong she was to think that song described what she was going through at that time. Loving Ted is nothing compared to loving Michael Scofield.
She had been so full of hope when they stepped off the plane a few months ago into a new beginning filled with sunshine, white sandy beaches and fifty cent drafts at happy hour.
~~~~~Flashback~~~~~
The minute the owners leave, Michael and Sara kiss passionately, almost wildly.
“Maybe we should freshen up,” Michael says coming up for air.
“Okay,” Sara says breathlessly.
“You first.”
“How about together?” she asks before pulling him by his collar into another kiss.
“I like the way you think Ms. Tancredi,” he says into her neck before pulling her towards the bathroom.
“I did say good girls finish last.”
“So you did.”
As he prepares the shower, Sara does not wait. She slips out of her sandals, sundress and underwear in no time.
“Well, one of us in a hurry,” he says dropping his voice even lower as he takes in the sight of her naked form. She is not the least bit shy as she moves around giving him a better view of herself.
“Aren’t you feeling a little over dressed?” she asks seductively.
“Definitely,” he says. He pulls his shirt over his head while closing the short distance between them. He pulls her close to revel in the sensation of her warm breasts against his chest.
Sara thinks it is entirely possible to come just from his touch because the minute there is nothing between, not even air, she thinks she will lose it. “Pants,” Sara says through their kisses. He only pulls the center of his body away from hers in order to rid himself of his pants as fast as humanly possible.
Throwing slow and tender out the window once again, they kiss and grab and nibble like the other is going to disappear, like this is some dream and they need to enjoy it before morning comes. They step into the shower and spend little time washing. The hot water adding to the heat they already feel.
Six years. Six years is a long time to wait to run her nails along his back. To have him cup her butt in his hands. To trace a path from his earlobe to his chin. To do everything her dirty little mind had imagined over the years.
“Sara, I think we’re clean.”
“Me, too.”
They don’t bother to dry off after stepping out of the shower. He just picks her up and she wraps her legs around his waist, locking her hands and ankles behind him. The trip to the bedroom - one door down - is quite eventful since his eyes are more focused on her breasts than the way. He bumps into the bed and they fall on it. She pushes herself further up on the bed.
“What are you looking at?” she asks him as he pulls himself to his knees.
“You. You’re beautiful.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
“God, how I’ve waited for this moment.” He moves to the get off the bed so he can begin to kiss his way up her body.
“What are you doing?” Sara asks before he can do anything.
“Foreplay. What people don’t do that anymore?”
“They do. I just don’t need it.” She leans forward to pull him onto her. “Some other time.” When he is directly above her, she cups him in her hand and guides him to her entrance. He takes in a deep breath to hold himself. Sara smiles at the face he makes in an effort to stay in control. “Right there.”
As he inside of her, they stare into each other’s eyes. When he is all the way in, she closes her eyes to the sensation to savor it. She arches against him and then when the moment passes, her back meets the bed. He presses his face into her neck and she breathes him. He smells like lust, like sex and she cannot get enough.
“Sara,” he says, his voice tight.
She opens her eyes to look at him. “It’s ok,” she says stroking his cheek. “We’ve got the rest of our lives.”
She grips the sheets as he thrusts into her until he is spent and she is as satisfied as him.
~~~~~End Flashback~~~~~
How naïve they had been. They had believed the worst was over.
They argue about him sleeping on the floor because he is not used to the comfort of a real mattress. She is tired of waking up alone and tripping over him in the middle of the night. They argue about only going out at night when it is cooler so he can wear long sleeves comfortably.
“Are you a vampire now or something?”
“Very funny.”
“It wasn’t meant to be joke.”
Or if they go out during the day, they bypass the beach and the open air markets and anything else having to do with the outside for the darkness of a movie theatre. And that isn’t very often.
They argue about her pushing.
“Stop asking me if I’m ok.”
“I wouldn’t ask if you acted like you were ok.”
Every argument ends in a staring match. She’ll never be able to match the intensity of his stare but she tries to anyway.
Every morning as she stares at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, she tells herself, it’s just a phase. He’s readjusting to the world. It’ll be over one day.
“What are you still doing up?” he says walking up onto the porch. He leans against the doorframe, hands in pockets, and watches her. One long, slender leg hanging over the side to rock the hammock every now and again.
“I couldn’t sleep.” She does not look at him; she keeps her eyes on the ocean. “Where’d you go?”
“I decided to step in front of a bus.”
“I see that went well.”
“The buses don’t run this late.”
“Well, the ocean is right there.”
“I’d wait till the buses run. It’s quicker that way.”
She lies there and he stands in silence. Tired of waiting for him to say something, anything, she gets up to go inside. He grabs her hand and pulls her to him. His lips graze her ear as he says, “I don’t hate you.”
“Michael,” she says, her voice weak.
“And you’re not weak.”
“Don’t do this if…”
“If what?”
She pulls away to look in his eyes. “If tomorrow is going to be the same.”
“I promise it won’t.”
A promise of a better tomorrow. Isn’t this what I’ve been waiting for, she thinks to herself, as he tastes the salty air on her skin. She closes her eyes and falls under the spell of his touch because she wants, needs to believe that he will keep this promise.
*Muy privado. Muy romantico para la pareja hermosa = Very private. Very romantic for the beautiful couple.
Chapter 3
“Tomorrow won’t be the same because you are leaving. I feel like you said goodbye,” Sara says as she lies on her side, her naked back to Michael. Michael says nothing as he studies the early morning light filtering in through the shutters. “You don’t plan on coming back.”
“I can’t be what you need.”
“Where are you going? What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” He turns to speak to her back. “I don’t expect you to wait around this time.” He pulls his hand up to touch her baby smooth skin only to hesitate.
“Do you want me to?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want.”
“It shouldn’t but it does.”
“I can’t answer that.”
He wishes he were a better man, had been a better man. He finally understands how his brother kept falling back into V’s arms when they both believed he was bad for her.
“Do you want me to wait?”
“Sara…”
“Michael,” she says turning to him. She rests her head on her pillow. “Why don’t I just come with you?”
“Sara…”
“We should just be together. We’ve been through worse. Michael, running away isn’t the answer.”
He turns to her. They are mirror images of each other. “Why are you fighting so hard for this?”
“Why aren’t you?”
“Don’t answer my question with a question.”
“Because…because…” she looks down trying to find the words. When the words finally come, she looks back into his blue eyes. “I’ve waited my entire adult life for this love. I’ve loved before and none of it compares to this.” She fans her hand across his heart. “If I’m not going to let you go and you aren’t going to let me go, then we should be together working through this.”
“I don’t know.”
She closes the gap between them, to rest her head on his chest. “Let’s just give it a try, a real try in Chicago.”
“You deserve better.”
She rests her chin on his chest as she looks up at him. “Let’s say I do. I don’t want better. I want you. I know I’m every feminist’s worse nightmare. I don’t care. I’m not ready to let you go. I want to wake up next you every morning for the rest of my life. I want a baby with your eyes. I don’t want to die knowing that I missed out on something amazing.”
“I want those things, too. The thought of you waiting for me kept me going. I told myself if you waited then maybe I’m not such a bad guy after all. If you could forgive me, then I could forgive myself. Well, I wish it were true. I wish wanting those things were enough. I wish you were enough.”
“One day I will be enough, so I’ll be waiting by your side until then.”