Chasing a high
This is set at the end of "Rendezvous". Michael is coming to terms with Sara leaving him.
-Michael, tell me something; you think there is a part of you that enjoys this?
-Peroxide on an open wound? No.
-I mean the escaping from prison, being on the run and the danger and the fear and the rush and all that. It uh… it feels to me like chasing a high? I know what that's like, and I should know better by now.
- I never thought about it like that.
Michael went through the conversation with Sara over and over again in his head. He was still sitting in the small motel room, holding her note in his hand. The words seemed to yell at him, throwing his failure in his face. She didn't feel safe with him; she didn't trust him, and why should she? He had been lying to her from the beginning, and every time he was able to explain something a dozen new things came up and destroyed what little trust she might have had.
Once again he thought about what she had said about chasing a high. Was it true? Sure, he felt the rush of adrenaline every time he saw a police car or when he saw the pictures of him, Sucre and the others. But was he really enjoying this the way she thought?
He had never thought about it, but now he forced himself to.
After a moment of consideration he had to admit that a part of him did enjoy this. He loved the feeling of freedom after being in prison. The satisfaction of fooling the law enforcement, knowing that he was smarter than them was also a feeling he would never forget. It had been close today, but even then had he been able to get both him and Sara out.
From the beginning the goal had simply been to get his brother to Panama. But now? None of the things he had so carefully planned seemed to work out, and now he was improvising. He hadn't expected to fall in love, but he did. He loved her. Her beautiful smile, her delicious curls, the look in her eye whenever she was close to him. He wanted her to come with him. He wanted to keep her safe from the dark forces that seemed to surround him wherever he went.
He understood why she felt she couldn't come with him, but it still hurt. Perhaps he was an addict to all this. But the first step to recovery is to admit that there is a problem, right? With a deep sigh Michael got ready to leave the motel. He had to meet up with his brother as soon as possible. He briefly considered to track Sara down and try to talk to her again, but quickly decided against it. She had made her choice, and no matter how much he wished it had been different it wasn't his right to question it. He knew what it was like to be a prisoner, to be forced to do things you don't want to do, and he would never put her through that.
With another sigh he left the room and went to return the key before returning to his car. Backing out of the parking lot he put on his sunglasses and drove off, gently whispering into the rearview mirror;
Good-bye, Sara.