Prison Break fic.
Title: It's Not Over
Author: muldy
Rating: PG
Fandom: Prison Break
Pairing: Michael/Sara
Summary: "She wondered how she’d ended up like this? Alone on a bus going from city to city without an aim, without any sort of focus, all because she’d fallen for an inmate. She wondered for a moment when she had admitted to herself that she’d fallen in love with him…"
Thanks to smirky_turkey for the beta...
It’s Not Over
The trees seemed to all roll into one big, green, blur out the window of the bus. She wasn’t entirely sure where she was going, what her reason for doing it was, but she felt like she had to be on the move, constantly. Maybe it was a fear that if she stayed in one place too long she’d be caught, or maybe she’d just gotten used to it, whatever it was she’d found herself using the money she had taken from Kelly Foster’s wallet to buy a some new clothes and get herself a bus ticket to Kansas.
She had absolutely no ties to Kansas City, but when she’d entered the bus station she’d found herself staring up at The Wizard Of Oz, the only movie she remembered watching with her father as a child, playing on a small screen up in the corner. Dorothy had been saying something about not being in Kansas anymore and somehow she had related to the girl being thrown into a world that was not her own.
So there she was. On her way to Kansas City.
She wondered if she was just getting used to it, or if she was just too tired to care, because for the first time since she’d left that door open she felt calm. Not that she wasn’t sitting on the edge of her seat, ready to run off if she was recognised by someone she didn’t want to find her, and not that she wasn’t conscious of the fact that her life was in danger, but for the first time since the escape she didn’t feel the need to run back to the morphine for comfort, she felt in control of her own life to.
“…Fox River Eight…”
Sara sat up straighter, straining her ears to hear the radio better. She hadn’t heard any news since she’d last seen Michael and Linc on the TV. Captured. Maybe that was why she was heading to Kansas? In a way it was closer to Chicago. Closer to Fox River.
“…brothers…escaped…”
She looked at the person next to her who was listening to a portable radio. She tapped him lightly on the arm and he turned to glare at her.
“What?” he asked, lazily pulling his headphones off.
“Can I borrow that for a second?”
He stared at her blankly for a moment before shrugging and handing it to her. “Sure…”
She thrust on the headphones and started flicking through the channels. She finally found the one that the bus was playing.
“No one knows of their whereabouts. In other news…”
For a moment she got angry at it, then realised that it was on the hour and there would probably be other news reports. She continued flicking through.
She wondered how she’d ended up like this? Alone on a bus going from city to city without an aim, without any sort of focus, all because she’d fallen for an inmate. She wondered for a moment when she had admitted to herself that she’d fallen in love with him…
“…Michael Scofield and Lincoln Burrows have escaped from custody again in what seems to be a never ending chase between the authorities and the escaped brothers.”
Sara felt a glimmer of hope flicker inside her. They’d escaped. Again. Somehow. She didn’t care how, or how unlikely it seemed that they could’ve done it, the news said it had happened so it had.
Then again this was Michael they were talking about.
She smiled slightly. He always managed to find a way. She wondered where they were now and how she would find them. If she was going to find out what exactly it was her key unlocked she knew she would need their help. Or at least that’s what she was telling herself, deep down inside she knew it was something more than that.
The news had moved on, she removed the headphones and handed the radio back to the guy sitting to her left. He gave her a strange look but didn’t ask any questions. She turned back to look out the window and observed that the green blur was now one containing fields and an occasional brown farmhouse rather than the trees she‘d been looking at earlier.
Suddenly she wanted Michael to contact her. If he was really free she wanted to talk to him. She wanted to hear it from him that they were OK. She needed to know they were alright. That he was alright. Because for all she knew they could be dead in a ditch somewhere.
Again her mind was brought back to the question that she’d asked herself earlier.
When had she admitted to herself she was in love with him?
She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the chair. She remembered the first day he’d walked into the infirmary, the smile on his face had been real and he’d seemed so honest she found it hard to believe he’d ended up in jail. Somehow he hadn’t fit into any of the profiles she’d built up to categorise the prisoners.
Sure some were nicer than others, some she even thought she might be friends with if they weren’t her patients and locked up in jail, but Michael had been different. There had been no ulterior motive from him, no nice talk to get closer to her because she was a woman. Instantly she’d recognised in him as a good man, one who didn’t belong there.
That night she’d taken home his file, she’d read everything she could on him. She’d learnt that he was an engineer, a well educated man, one with plenty of money - not the type of person you’d ever expect to rob a bank. For a good while he had mystified her, and she was sure that was where it had started.
There was something incredibly attractive about a mysterious man like Michael Scofield.
She thought she’d figured him out after her discovery that Lincoln Burrows was his brother, suddenly there was a reason for him to be there. And she knew Michael was the type of man who’d want to be close to his brother who was on death row. Somehow it had allowed her to take her guard down, something she’d been so careful about never doing around inmates.
She opened her eyes and turned to look out the window again. She was aware she had no idea of her location, but the seemingly endless fields seemed to comfort her somehow. He was out there, possibly running for his life.
Doing what he seemed to do best.
Somehow despite all the pain that he had caused her, she managed to still care about him. How was it possible to care about the man who’d used her? The man who at one point in her life she’d been convinced had never truly had feelings for her at all.
She remembered the absolute and utter feeling of helplessness she’d felt standing by the water, looking at the city. Chicago. She’d had two choices. Leave the door unlocked, abetting the escape of two innocent men who should never have been there in the first place and probably losing her job in the process. Or leaving it locked and having to go into work every day and look into Michael’s eyes knowing that she’d been the reason his brother had ended up dead.
Somehow she hadn’t felt like she had much of a choice.
She’d gone into Fox River to help people, she’d just never figured that helping them escape would ever be a part of that.
Then somehow the morphine had ended up in her hand. That seemed easier. She’d be able to forget, if only for a moment, if she took the morphine. She wanted to forget so much, to take away the pain. To bury the knowledge that the man she’d learnt to trust, to care for, maybe even fallen in love with, had only been using her.
That the way he’d kissed her had been nothing more than a way to manipulate her.
So she’d taken the drugs. Taken the drugs and known she could blame it on him. That the more she took the more reason she’d have to hate him. So she took as much as she could. And when she’d woken in hospital days later it had taken her a few moments to remember. At the time she’d wished she had never woken up. That things would’ve been easier if she hadn’t.
And she’d woken up with the knowledge that she still didn’t hate Michael.
She had wanted to. When he’d called her days later for a moment she thought she did hate him, and then he’d spoken and she knew she didn’t. That she couldn’t. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how much morphine she injected into herself, how many drinks she had, she wouldn’t hate him.
Even when her father had died because of what she’d asked him to look into, because of Michael and Lincoln, she hadn’t hated him. She’d wanted to shout at him, to hit him, and most of all she’d wanted it all to go back to the way it was.
But never once had she regretted leaving the door open for Michael.
Every part of her wished that T-bag had never made it back out onto the street, but as far as she knew the others had caused little damage to society. And somehow she knew she’d stopped caring about them, or maybe she’d just buried it deep enough that the guilt had stopped resurfacing.
The bus slowed down and turned onto the interstate, the sign out of the window told her they were headed straight for Kansas City. She closed her eyes, letting what she knew was a false sense of security wash over her, and finally allowed herself to fall asleep.
Hours later she found herself handing over the little bit of money she had left for a half-decent hotel room. She had very little luxury the last few weeks and she just wanted something she could consider as a comfort.
That and access to a TV. She wanted to know what was happening with Michael and Lincoln and that seemed to be the fastest way to get that information. She sat for a while, watching the news looping on Fox, and after the fourth time she’d watched them announce their escape she picked up the remote to change channels.
After a few channels of absolutely nothing she flicked back to Fox, content to check her arm again and listen to them telling her how Michael was free.
She froze.
“…and I’m innocent.”
She couldn’t bring herself to think or say anything, she was glued to her seat. After a few moments she realised she wasn’t even listening to what Lincoln was saying, all she wanted to know was where was Michael? Was he OK?
And then the camera pulled back, another voice joining in.
“He killed himself out of fear. Fear of the people who’ve been hiding him….”
She breathed out for the first time since seeing Lincoln’s face. He was OK. He was alive and he was what seemed like free. And they were telling the truth. She was still frozen, her hand suspended in front of her, holding the remote pointed at the TV, half afraid that if she moved in any way they would disappear, that it was all somehow a dream.
“…Dr Sara Tancredi.”
She felt herself catching her own breath again.
“Sara if you’re listening, I know I can’t ask you for another chance. I can only hope by now you’ve found your Safe Haven…”
She sat up straighter, dropping the remote. Safe Haven? That was a chapter from the Big Book. Suddenly she clicked. She’d been staring at him tapping on his leg, wondering if it was Morse code but instantly she knew that was wrong, it was a distraction. Other people would be watching this.
“…I took advantage of you. Of your commitment to help others. And put you in a place that’s every doctor’s nightmare…”
She knew it now, that wasn’t how Michael spoke, that was a code. She couldn’t be sure that it was yet, but it was there. Her brain was moving faster now, trying to figure out how she could get her hands on a copy of this, yet trying to memorise it at the same time.
“…I considered many ways to apologise but I must arrive at one.”
She knew she was on the right track. He was talking to her, in a way only she would understand.
And for the first time in what felt like a life time she smiled.
Author: muldy
Rating: PG
Fandom: Prison Break
Pairing: Michael/Sara
Summary: "She wondered how she’d ended up like this? Alone on a bus going from city to city without an aim, without any sort of focus, all because she’d fallen for an inmate. She wondered for a moment when she had admitted to herself that she’d fallen in love with him…"
Thanks to smirky_turkey for the beta...
It’s Not Over
The trees seemed to all roll into one big, green, blur out the window of the bus. She wasn’t entirely sure where she was going, what her reason for doing it was, but she felt like she had to be on the move, constantly. Maybe it was a fear that if she stayed in one place too long she’d be caught, or maybe she’d just gotten used to it, whatever it was she’d found herself using the money she had taken from Kelly Foster’s wallet to buy a some new clothes and get herself a bus ticket to Kansas.
She had absolutely no ties to Kansas City, but when she’d entered the bus station she’d found herself staring up at The Wizard Of Oz, the only movie she remembered watching with her father as a child, playing on a small screen up in the corner. Dorothy had been saying something about not being in Kansas anymore and somehow she had related to the girl being thrown into a world that was not her own.
So there she was. On her way to Kansas City.
She wondered if she was just getting used to it, or if she was just too tired to care, because for the first time since she’d left that door open she felt calm. Not that she wasn’t sitting on the edge of her seat, ready to run off if she was recognised by someone she didn’t want to find her, and not that she wasn’t conscious of the fact that her life was in danger, but for the first time since the escape she didn’t feel the need to run back to the morphine for comfort, she felt in control of her own life to.
“…Fox River Eight…”
Sara sat up straighter, straining her ears to hear the radio better. She hadn’t heard any news since she’d last seen Michael and Linc on the TV. Captured. Maybe that was why she was heading to Kansas? In a way it was closer to Chicago. Closer to Fox River.
“…brothers…escaped…”
She looked at the person next to her who was listening to a portable radio. She tapped him lightly on the arm and he turned to glare at her.
“What?” he asked, lazily pulling his headphones off.
“Can I borrow that for a second?”
He stared at her blankly for a moment before shrugging and handing it to her. “Sure…”
She thrust on the headphones and started flicking through the channels. She finally found the one that the bus was playing.
“No one knows of their whereabouts. In other news…”
For a moment she got angry at it, then realised that it was on the hour and there would probably be other news reports. She continued flicking through.
She wondered how she’d ended up like this? Alone on a bus going from city to city without an aim, without any sort of focus, all because she’d fallen for an inmate. She wondered for a moment when she had admitted to herself that she’d fallen in love with him…
“…Michael Scofield and Lincoln Burrows have escaped from custody again in what seems to be a never ending chase between the authorities and the escaped brothers.”
Sara felt a glimmer of hope flicker inside her. They’d escaped. Again. Somehow. She didn’t care how, or how unlikely it seemed that they could’ve done it, the news said it had happened so it had.
Then again this was Michael they were talking about.
She smiled slightly. He always managed to find a way. She wondered where they were now and how she would find them. If she was going to find out what exactly it was her key unlocked she knew she would need their help. Or at least that’s what she was telling herself, deep down inside she knew it was something more than that.
The news had moved on, she removed the headphones and handed the radio back to the guy sitting to her left. He gave her a strange look but didn’t ask any questions. She turned back to look out the window and observed that the green blur was now one containing fields and an occasional brown farmhouse rather than the trees she‘d been looking at earlier.
Suddenly she wanted Michael to contact her. If he was really free she wanted to talk to him. She wanted to hear it from him that they were OK. She needed to know they were alright. That he was alright. Because for all she knew they could be dead in a ditch somewhere.
Again her mind was brought back to the question that she’d asked herself earlier.
When had she admitted to herself she was in love with him?
She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the chair. She remembered the first day he’d walked into the infirmary, the smile on his face had been real and he’d seemed so honest she found it hard to believe he’d ended up in jail. Somehow he hadn’t fit into any of the profiles she’d built up to categorise the prisoners.
Sure some were nicer than others, some she even thought she might be friends with if they weren’t her patients and locked up in jail, but Michael had been different. There had been no ulterior motive from him, no nice talk to get closer to her because she was a woman. Instantly she’d recognised in him as a good man, one who didn’t belong there.
That night she’d taken home his file, she’d read everything she could on him. She’d learnt that he was an engineer, a well educated man, one with plenty of money - not the type of person you’d ever expect to rob a bank. For a good while he had mystified her, and she was sure that was where it had started.
There was something incredibly attractive about a mysterious man like Michael Scofield.
She thought she’d figured him out after her discovery that Lincoln Burrows was his brother, suddenly there was a reason for him to be there. And she knew Michael was the type of man who’d want to be close to his brother who was on death row. Somehow it had allowed her to take her guard down, something she’d been so careful about never doing around inmates.
She opened her eyes and turned to look out the window again. She was aware she had no idea of her location, but the seemingly endless fields seemed to comfort her somehow. He was out there, possibly running for his life.
Doing what he seemed to do best.
Somehow despite all the pain that he had caused her, she managed to still care about him. How was it possible to care about the man who’d used her? The man who at one point in her life she’d been convinced had never truly had feelings for her at all.
She remembered the absolute and utter feeling of helplessness she’d felt standing by the water, looking at the city. Chicago. She’d had two choices. Leave the door unlocked, abetting the escape of two innocent men who should never have been there in the first place and probably losing her job in the process. Or leaving it locked and having to go into work every day and look into Michael’s eyes knowing that she’d been the reason his brother had ended up dead.
Somehow she hadn’t felt like she had much of a choice.
She’d gone into Fox River to help people, she’d just never figured that helping them escape would ever be a part of that.
Then somehow the morphine had ended up in her hand. That seemed easier. She’d be able to forget, if only for a moment, if she took the morphine. She wanted to forget so much, to take away the pain. To bury the knowledge that the man she’d learnt to trust, to care for, maybe even fallen in love with, had only been using her.
That the way he’d kissed her had been nothing more than a way to manipulate her.
So she’d taken the drugs. Taken the drugs and known she could blame it on him. That the more she took the more reason she’d have to hate him. So she took as much as she could. And when she’d woken in hospital days later it had taken her a few moments to remember. At the time she’d wished she had never woken up. That things would’ve been easier if she hadn’t.
And she’d woken up with the knowledge that she still didn’t hate Michael.
She had wanted to. When he’d called her days later for a moment she thought she did hate him, and then he’d spoken and she knew she didn’t. That she couldn’t. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how much morphine she injected into herself, how many drinks she had, she wouldn’t hate him.
Even when her father had died because of what she’d asked him to look into, because of Michael and Lincoln, she hadn’t hated him. She’d wanted to shout at him, to hit him, and most of all she’d wanted it all to go back to the way it was.
But never once had she regretted leaving the door open for Michael.
Every part of her wished that T-bag had never made it back out onto the street, but as far as she knew the others had caused little damage to society. And somehow she knew she’d stopped caring about them, or maybe she’d just buried it deep enough that the guilt had stopped resurfacing.
The bus slowed down and turned onto the interstate, the sign out of the window told her they were headed straight for Kansas City. She closed her eyes, letting what she knew was a false sense of security wash over her, and finally allowed herself to fall asleep.
Hours later she found herself handing over the little bit of money she had left for a half-decent hotel room. She had very little luxury the last few weeks and she just wanted something she could consider as a comfort.
That and access to a TV. She wanted to know what was happening with Michael and Lincoln and that seemed to be the fastest way to get that information. She sat for a while, watching the news looping on Fox, and after the fourth time she’d watched them announce their escape she picked up the remote to change channels.
After a few channels of absolutely nothing she flicked back to Fox, content to check her arm again and listen to them telling her how Michael was free.
She froze.
“…and I’m innocent.”
She couldn’t bring herself to think or say anything, she was glued to her seat. After a few moments she realised she wasn’t even listening to what Lincoln was saying, all she wanted to know was where was Michael? Was he OK?
And then the camera pulled back, another voice joining in.
“He killed himself out of fear. Fear of the people who’ve been hiding him….”
She breathed out for the first time since seeing Lincoln’s face. He was OK. He was alive and he was what seemed like free. And they were telling the truth. She was still frozen, her hand suspended in front of her, holding the remote pointed at the TV, half afraid that if she moved in any way they would disappear, that it was all somehow a dream.
“…Dr Sara Tancredi.”
She felt herself catching her own breath again.
“Sara if you’re listening, I know I can’t ask you for another chance. I can only hope by now you’ve found your Safe Haven…”
She sat up straighter, dropping the remote. Safe Haven? That was a chapter from the Big Book. Suddenly she clicked. She’d been staring at him tapping on his leg, wondering if it was Morse code but instantly she knew that was wrong, it was a distraction. Other people would be watching this.
“…I took advantage of you. Of your commitment to help others. And put you in a place that’s every doctor’s nightmare…”
She knew it now, that wasn’t how Michael spoke, that was a code. She couldn’t be sure that it was yet, but it was there. Her brain was moving faster now, trying to figure out how she could get her hands on a copy of this, yet trying to memorise it at the same time.
“…I considered many ways to apologise but I must arrive at one.”
She knew she was on the right track. He was talking to her, in a way only she would understand.
And for the first time in what felt like a life time she smiled.