Summary: Michael and Sara meet up at a Christmas party years later. They're married, however not to each other.
Rating: K+
It was a good idea. Really, it was. Dozens of Chicago's most prominent businesses working together to host a holiday party for children in the hospital was a good idea; not only did it bring loads of good publicity to the hospital, but it made the kids really happy. And for most of the children there, they could use all the joy they could get.
Sara, however, was not thinking of how good this was. She was too preoccupied with making sure that none of the patients over-exerted themselves, and looking after Emily, who had insisted that Sara take her along. "If you feel tired, make sure you take a break from the festivities." Sara instructed a young boy who was recovering from surgery.
"Okay. When's Santa gonna be here?" He asked, looking up at her excitedly.
"Soon. Promise me you'll tell Betty?" Betty was the boy's nurse.
"I promise!" He vowed, already eyeing the presents underneath one of the Christmas trees.
"I'll be back later." Sara said, walking away. She set his chart down on at the Nurses' Station, and turned around. "Thanks for watching her for me." Sara said over the blaring Christmas carols to Susie, one of the nurses, who had walked Emily back over to her mother.
"Oh, it's no trouble, Sara." Susie replied. "Do you think Jim will make it over here tonight?"
"I doubt it. He's been really busy with work lately." Sara replied, grimacing. It seemed like all her husband did these days was work. "Do you want some Christmas cookies?" Sara asked Emily, bending down slightly, so she could hear the six-year-old's response. This proved unnecessary, as Emily simply nodded in response. Emily was a very quiet girl, and sometimes Sara wondered if she was too quiet for her own good. "All right. See you, Susie!" Sara said, leading the girl over to a refreshments table. "What ones do you want?" The doctor asked Emily, lifting her up so she could see all of her options.
"Dr. Tancredi!" A voice said. Sara turned around.
"Dr. Milton." She replied respectfully. Quite frankly, Sara was surprised to see her boss at the party. "You couldn't get out of this either?"
"Are you kidding? I helped decorate." Dr. Milton said, voice full of false enthusiasm.
"Ah. So even you are not above the power of the sign-up sheet." Sara commented. She'd been recruited to help look after patients and clean up afterwards.
"Something like that." The other doctor said. "I don't see Jim here anywhere."
"He had to work."
"How's his law firm going?"
"Very well." Sara replied.
"Mommy!"
Sara gave her boss an apologetic look, and turned to her daughter. Dr. Milton laughed softly, and stepped away to go work the crowd. "What is it, sweety?"
"I want the Frosty one." Emily answered, pointing. Sara put the cookie shaped like a snowman on a plate, poured Emily a glass of juice, and led her over to a table.
"Here you go." Sara said, setting the plate down.
"Thank you, Mommy." Emily replied obediently.
"You're welcome."
Well, this was definitely the last time Michael was ever playing poker with people from the office. Damn, but he would have sworn Larry was bluffing. Unfortunately for Michael, Larry had been holding a royal flush, which certainly beat his three of a kind. The stakes? Whoever lost had to be Santa at the upcoming Christmas party in which Michael's architecture company was participating. Contributions to the party were also being made by other companies and organizations, including the local hospital, schools, and various others, in the form of cash donations or labor.
So here Michael was, in a bathroom on the third floor of the hospital, staring at himself in a mirror. His reflection, or rather, Santa's reflection, stared back at him. It was bad enough that he was dressed up in this ridiculous suit, but in a matter of minutes, dozens of kids would be revealing their deepest aspirations to him, telling him, no doubt in great detail, what exactly they wanted to find in less than a week on Christmas day.
And how the hell was Michael supposed to help them get what they wanted? That was the thing: he couldn't do anything. He was powerless. Michael hated being powerless.
His thoughts scattered as the door to the bathroom opened, to admit Larry, who was wearing plain black pants and a black shirt, but a vibrant red and green tie. "You ready, Santa?" He asked in a joking tone.
Michael turned around and glared at him. "Flip a coin? I win, you do this?" He asked desperately. The last thing he wanted to do was go out into a room full of people like this, many of whom he worked with and one of which he was recently married to.
Larry laughed. "No way, man." He walked over to Michael. "Santa needs a beard, you know." Larry remarked dryly, picking up the white mass of fake hair Michael had shoved under the sink, in hopes that no one would miss it. Michael made a face. "Come on, it's for the kids."
Michael sighed, but took the beard from Larry and put it on. "Ho ho ho." He said, in a tone that was somewhat lacking in Christmas spirit.
"Come on. Carrie's waiting for you."
"What, to take pictures?" Michael asked glumly. He wouldn't put it past his new wife to be waiting outside the bathroom to take a picture for next year's Christmas cards. Carrie was very in to Christmas.
"I think she'll surprise you. In a good way." Larry replied, steering Michael out of the bathroom.
"Hello there, Santa." A woman whispered into his ear, voice seductively low.
Michael turned his head, peering over his fake glasses, and saw Carrie standing next to him, wearing a Mrs. Claus costume, complete with a gray wig. He smiled, amused that she was willing to go along with this. "Mrs. Claus." He replied in acknowledgement, kissing her on the cheek. Together, they walked to where the party was, in the lobby.
"Ho ho ho!" Michael called as he worked his way through the people to the chair that had been set up for him, drawing the attention of every child in the room. Squeals of excitement permeated the atmosphere, as the youngsters moved as quickly as they could to line up to sit on his lap.
"Mommy! I want to sit on Santa's lap!" Emily exclaimed, bouncing up and down in her chair. Her half-eaten cookie lay forgotten.
"Okay, let's go get in line." Sara replied, standing up. The line to see Santa was several minutes long by now, and Sara allowed a few of the hospital children to go ahead of them in line, seeing as Emily was only at the party because Sara was working. For a few minutes that seemed to Sara to drag on for hours, Emily shifted her wait anxiously from one small foot to the other. Honestly, Sara was a little apprehensive about what would happen when they got to the front of the line. In previous years, Emily had started to cry every time she sat on Santa's lap, despite having pleaded fervently to go see him before.
"Mommy?" Emily asked softly, as the line moved slowly.
"Hmmm?"
"Can I ask Santa for a puppy for Christmas?"
"Yes, sweetheart." Sara replied. Her and Jim had already discussed the matter, and had decided that Emily was old enough for them to have a dog in the house.
"Thank you thank you thank you!" Emily exclaimed, jumping up and down in her excitement, dark hair bouncing wildly.
Gradually they approached the front of the line. Only three more, then two, then one, and all of a sudden, Emily and Sara were at the front of the line. As Sara had predicted, Emily had drawn closer to her as they got closer, to the point that she was holding on to Sara's leg. "Emily, honey, if you want to talk to Santa, now's your chance." Sara said softly, gently pushing Emily towards him. Emily glanced up at her with wide eyes, before slowly stepping towards Santa. Sara watched for a moment, surprised, realizing that she had underestimated how badly her daughter wanted a puppy this year.
"Ho ho ho! What's your name, little girl?" Santa asked. As Santa turned to Emily, Sara's breath caught in her throat. She knew she would recognize those eyes, that voice, anywhere, even disguised by a fake beard and a costume and a falsely deep voice. For a few seconds, Sara was incapable of any coherent thought, and then the only thing running through her mind was 'Michael Scofield is Santa Claus?!'
"Have you been a good girl, Emily?" 'Santa' asked Emily, who nodded, eyes still wide. "Do you listen to your Mom and Dad?" Again, a nod. "What would you like for Christmas this year, Emily?"
Emily's mouth moved silently for a moment, before she cupped her hands and put them to his ear. She whispered something, and 'Santa' laughed. "A puppy? What kind of puppy would you like?" He asked. Emily whispered again. "A brown puppy? I'll see what I can do." He promised.
"Excuse me, Santa, but could I have a picture?" Sara asked, finding her voice again. Her and Jim hadn't had time to take Emily to the mall to see Santa, and they wanted to remember this.
"Ho ho ho! Of course!" He replied, turning his head towards Emily's mother. When Michael's gaze settled on her, his jaw dropped slightly. It was none other than Sara Tancredi! He hadn't seen her since... well, since the hotel in Gila, where she left him. Years of searching for the doctor flashed instantly through his mind. Michael glanced down at the young girl on his lap, who was smiling broadly, and felt as though he'd been punched in the stomach. She'd moved on! She had a daughter! What if this girl was really his? Wait, no, they'd never... that had only been in his dreams. She couldn't be his. Which meant Sara really had moved on!
"Say cheese." Sara said shakily, calling Michael back to the present. She could tell by the startled expression on his face that he had recognized her.
"Cheese!" Emily cried. Instinctively, Sara took the picture, even though Michael's face was still a mask of shock.
"Are you all right, Santa?" Carrie asked, coming over when she saw the distraught look on Michael's face.
"Huh? Oh..." Michael carefully lifted Emily off his lap. "Have a candy cane... Ho ho ho!" He said, handing a candy cane to the girl.
"Thank you Santa!" Emily called over her shoulder as she skipped back to Sara.
He made to stand and follow them as the girl and her mother disappeared back into the crowd, but stopped as he realized that there was still a long line of sick children waiting to see him. "Merry Christmas." Michael murmured as he watched them go.
"Susie, can you look after Emily for a moment? I have to run to the bathroom." Sara said when she found the nurse.
"Of course, Sara." Susie replied, taking the little girl's hand. "Did you see Santa yet?" She asked. Emily responded with a happy nod as Sara walked away.
She quickly went into the nearest on-call room, needing to be out of the sight of everyone. Sara paced heatedly for a moment, trying to decide what to do, before leaning against a wall. She lowered herself slowly to the ground, her white coat bunching up. Sara extended her legs out in front of her, and rested her hands on her elbows, which were balanced on her legs.
This... this was more than Sara could handle. Seeing him again, after all these years. It was just too much. After all this time, just after she had finally begun to think that she was over him for good, he reappeared. Her life had been in order again, back on the right track. Sara had met Jim at, ironically enough, a holiday party at the hospital almost eight years ago. He'd come in needing stitches after his ex-girlfriend threw a spoon at him, and Sara, being the least into the holidays then, had offered to leave the party for a few minutes to take care of them. They'd hit it off, begun dating, and moved in together after a few weeks. Jim had proposed exactly a year after they met, and six months after the wedding, Sara realized she was pregnant. That was the real turning point for her; now her marriage felt more permanent, her life more stable. She could no longer back out of this on a whim, hoping to find that... that man again. Now she was entirely dedicated to her marriage, to Jim, and to their child.
But Michael reappearing now... it was more than she could handle. Sara stood up abruptly, and found a bottle of morphine on a supply cart just inside the door. She reached inside the pocket of her white coat, searching for a needle. Abruptly, her hand froze. No. No, she woudn't go back to that, not over Michael. She refused to. He wasn't worth it now. Not even Michael was worth going back to that. She had a husband and a daughter to think of now.
Sara slumped back against the wall again. She rubbed away sudden tears as she realized that she still missed him. She still cared for him, just as she had eight years ago in Fox River. But she had a husband now, and that man's name wasn't Michael. She was supposed to be okay with that. After all, Sara did love Jim. But he wasn't Michael.
She sighed. Sara knew that Susie would start looking for her shortly, if she didn't return. She put the morphine back on the cart, and exited the on-call room.
After over an hour of listening to children, Larry had rescued Michael, allowing him to take a five minute break. He retreated to the bathroom he'd been in earlier. Michael pulled the beard off-it scratched his throat-and angrily hurled it at the floor. Sara Tancredi. It had taken him eight years, but he'd finally found her again. He'd found the love of his life again.
The irony was that he was now off the market.
Michael had met Carrie in a grocery store. She was struggling to reach a specific bag of noodles, and he, being a gentleman and a head taller than she, reached up and gallantly got the bag down for her. Carrie had caught a glance of his tattoos while he did this, and she asked about them. The shopping trip had ended in a date, and six months later, they were engaged. They had eloped to Hawaii in late September, telling just Lincoln that they were going.
It felt like when Michael lost a particular C.D. that belonged to Larry. He'd gone and purchased another copy when it became evident that he wasn't going to be able to find it. Upon returning home from work the day he gave the new C.D. to Larry, Michael had discovered Larry's old copy in a C.D. case. The quickest way to find something is to find a way to get on without it, and that had certainly proven true when it came to Sara. He'd looked for her for years after he and Lincoln had exposed the company, but without any success whatsoever.
Michael banged his head on the wall in frustration. How had this happened? One would think that given the size of the United States, the odds of them both settling in the same city would be practically nothing, and yet here they both were, in Chicago, at a freaking Christmas party. Sara Tancredi, the love of his life, had reappeared, but just a few months too late.
Although, given the apparent age of the girl, it was a few months too late for him, but a few years too late for her. Emily must have been at least five. Michael wondered briefly about the father. Having eliminated himself from the possibilities, he was still left with every other man on the planet. He hoped it was somebody decent, somebody who treated her right. Someone who respected her. Someone who loved her.
Michael banged his head again. He knew he fit that order perfectly. He also knew that he had had his chance with Sara, and he had blown it. Sometimes there are no second chances. Michael turned on a faucet, and splashed some cold water on his face.
Larry entered the bathroom. "You almost ready?" Michael glanced over at him, then back down at the sink. "Michael? Are you okay?" Larry came over and stood next to her.
Michael rested his hands on the edges of the sink. "I... I don't know."
"What's up?"
Michael looked at him, before looking at himself in the mirror. "Never mind." He muttered, knowing that Larry couldn't understand. Larry was Michael's best friend now (second only to Lincoln), but he hadn't been there. He didn't understand what it was like to be in a prison, what it was like to be held at gunpoint, to have be separated from the ones he loves.
"All right, then, we gotta get back out." Larry said. Michael nodded, and followed his friend out of the bathroom, and back to where the children were waiting.
Sara spent the next several hours dividing her time between patients and Emily, also carefully managing to avoid seeing Michael. It was easier to avoid him then confront him. Maybe if she was lucky, she wouldn't see him again all night.
Gradually the party wound down. One by one the patients and their families returned to the rooms, and pretty much everybody who wasn't involved in clean-up left. Somebody turned the volume of the Christmas carols down so that it was more background music. Sara arrived just in time to help Susie move a table back into a supply closet, while Emily watched nearby. When they came back to the lobby, Sara saw Michael coming out of a hospital room, still disguised as Santa. She recognized the room as that of a boy named Bobby, who was currently unable to get out of his bed and thus unable to enjoy the party. Sara was glad Michael had somehow heard about the boy and been able to visit him. She knew it meant the world to these kids to be able to see Santa, and have an almost normal night.
Sara leaned against the wall, watching Michael as he trudged over to the refreshment table. "Hey, Sara? You coming?" Susie asked her, breaking into Sara's thoughts.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'll be right there." Sara waved Susie on ahead with Emily, still watching Michael. She took a deep breath, and walked over to the table, deciding that it would give her more closure to talk to him than to just leave.
"Hey." Sara said to 'Santa' as she pulled a bottle out from under the table.
"Dr. Sara Tancredi." Michael said in greeting, taking a long sip of his fruit punch.
"Morgan."
"What?"
"It's Morgan now. Dr. Sara Morgan."
"Oh. What's that?" He asked as Sara poured herself a glass of whatever was in the bottle.
"What? Oh, this is the grown-up punch." Sara replied. "I know I could use some right about now. Want some?"
"Nah. Nobody likes a drunk Santa."
"True." A pause. "So, uh, why exactly are you Santa?"
Michael grinned thinly. "I lost a poker game."
"Nice job." Sara said, smirking into her cup of alcoholic punch.
"Yeah." Michael replied. "Why are you here?"
"I work here."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
An awkward silence descended on the pair. Sara had almost changed her mind and was about to walk away when Michael spoke again. "How've you been, Sara?" He asked, all humor gone from his voice.
"I've been good." Sara replied in a strained tone. "You?"
Michael shrugged. "Not bad." He hesitated. "I looked for you, you know. For seven years, I searched."
Sara looked down. "But you didn't think to come back to Chicago?" Her tone was neutral.
"I didn't have any idea where you were, Sara, and you certainly didn't make things easy for me. You had to have seen the stuff on the news, when we were pardoned, when I asked-on national tv- for you to contact me." His voice, on the other hand, was accusing.
Sara's eyes jerked back up to his. "What the hell are you trying to say?"
"I'm trying to say you didn't seem to want to be found!" Michael replied.
"While you were busy exposing the Company, I was getting my life back on track." Sara snapped. "And you can't blame me for trying to fix what you destroyed!"
Michael was silent for a moment, watching staff removing the decorations and putting the hospital back to normal, but not really seeing it. "I'm really not mad at you." He said finally. "I'm not."
"You have a funny way of showing it."
"Sorry. I'm just furious at myself." Michael paused, waiting for a response. When he didn't get one, he continued. "Do you have any idea how big of an idiot I feel like right now? I couldn't find the woman I loved, but when I finally do, it's too late." He lowered his voice to a soft whisper. "You moved on, Sara."
"I had to." She said, immediately. "Did you really expect me to wait for you forever?"
Michael had no reply to this, so he changed the topic. "Emily. She looks like you."
"She has her father's eyes."
"How old is she?"
"Six."
"She's adorable." A pause. "She wants a brown puppy for Christmas."
"I know. Jim and I already have on picked out."
"How long have you been married?"
"Seven years." Sara replied, taking a sip of her drink.
"Do you love him?"
Sara looked up at him. "Yeah. Yeah I do." She said softly.
"Michael!" A voice called. Sara and Michael both turned and saw a brunette walking towards them. She kissed Michael on the cheek. "Why are you still in your costume?" She asked, a plastic bag in her hand containing her Mrs. Claus costume.
"There were some kids who couldn't leave their rooms that I wanted to see." Michael replied, smiling kindly at her. "Carrie, this is Sara. She's an old... friend. Sara, this is my wife, Carrie."
"Pleasure to meet you." Carrie said, smiling charmingly and sticking her hand out to Sara.
Working through her surprise, Sara shook her hand. "You too."
Carrie turned back to Michael. "Not to rush you or anything, but I need to get home to do some work." She said.
"I'll be ready in just a few minute, okay?"
"Sure. I'm going to go see if Larry needs a ride home." Carrie said. "I thought I saw him nipping at some champagne earlier."
"Okay." Michael said, as Carrie hurried off. He turned back to Sara, who was staring up at him accusingly.
"You were condemning me for having a family when you're married too?"
Michael shifted his feet. "It just surprised me." He said, finally.
Sara opened her mouth to retort, but decided against it. "How long have you two been together?"
"Since March. We got married in September." Michael answered.
"Do you love her?"
"Yeah, yeah I do." He replied truthfully.
"You kept the tattoos." Sara remarked, surprised. His sleeve had shifted slightly, exposing some of the ink.
Michael shrugged. "Yeah."
"Carrie doesn't mind?"
"At first she did. But then they kind of grew on her."
"I always figured you'd get them removed."
"I thought about it. But the tattoos are like a part of me now." After this, there was another lull.
"Do you still care about me, Michael?" Sara asked finally.
"Of course I still love you!" Michael asserted immediately. "What about you?"
Sara nodded. "Me too." A silence descended upon them. A few moments later, Sara drained the rest of her glass, took a deep breath, and asked, "Where does that leave us?"
Michael didn't have a good answer to this, so he just said what he felt. "If you ask me to, I'll leave her."
Sara looked up at him, and realized that he meant it. "I want to, Michael. I want to..." She said softly.
"But you can't." He finished.
She shook her head. "I can't."
Michael exhaled slowly. "You've been married for nearly ten years, and you have a daughter." Michael said.
"And you're married too. You have a wife who loves you. And you love her."
"Yeah."
"Michael?"
"Hmm?"
"We're standing under mistletoe."
Michael looked up, almost causing his Santa hat to fall off. He gave a brief, quiet chuckle. "So we are. Do you want to...?"
"Do you?"
"It is mistletoe." Michael said, leaning in towards her slowly. Sara rose up on her toes slightly, meeting him halfway. Their lips met, and everything else fell away. For an instant, they were back in Fox River, she the doctor, he the inmate, things between them nowhere near as difficult as they would become. He was attracted to her, and her to him, and that was all that mattered. Things were right.
But as they inevitably broke apart just a few seconds later, both remembered that that wasn't all that mattered, not anymore. They had separate lives now, and could never go back.
"What now?" Sara asked softly, heart racing after the kiss.
Michael was silent for a moment, staring at her and thinking. He knew that they couldn't be together. Not now. Years ago, maybe. But not now. They both knew it. As much as they both hated it, they had moved on. "I guess now we say goodbye." Michael said, staring at her, determined to remember every detail.
Sara nodded quickly, and looked down, so that Michael wouldn't see that her eyes were full of unshed tears. "Yeah."
"Sara?" Michael gently forced her chin up. Sara saw that his eyes were sparkling with tears as well.
"Michael." She breathed his name. They stayed like that for a moment more, barely inches apart, before- "Goodbye, Michael." Sara said, stepping backwards and away from him. "Goodbye." She continued to walk backwards, until she stumbled slightly. Sara turned around and walked slowly towards where she knew Emily and Susie were waiting, but kept turning her head back for one last look at the man in the Santa suit, the man she loved.
"Goodbye, Sara." Michael whispered, a touch of finality in his voice, as she turned the corner and disappeared from his sight.
"Daddy!" Emily squealed as she ran in the door and saw her father standing in the kitchen. She quickly climbed up on a chair to watch him chop up the vegetables.
"You know what, I'll call you back." Jim said, hanging up the phone. "Hey there."
"Hey Jim." Sara said, kissing him on the cheek as she passed him by to set her stuff on the counter.
"Hello." He said, smiling at them.
"I thought you had to work tonight." Sara commented, getting a water bottle out of the refrigerator.
"I left the office a little early so I could spend some time with my girls." Jim replied.
"Mommy!" Emily whined. "Why do we have to eat vegetables?"
"Because Christmas cookies aren't a good dinner. You need to get some real food in you." Sara answered.
"Hmph. Christmas cookies are real food." Her daughter pouted. Sara grinned.
"How was the party?" Jim inquired.
Sara shrugged. "It was okay."
"Did you have fun, pumpkin?" He asked Emily.
A thrilled expression came over the child's face. "Yes! I had cookies, and Miss Susie showed me some of the other children in the hospital, and I sat on Santa's lap!"
"You did? What did you ask him for?" Jim questioned, sharing a secret smile with Sara.
"A puppy! A brown one." Emily said.
"Sounds like you had a good night." Her father remarked.
Emily bobbed her head happily. "Yep!"
Jim chuckled. "I'm glad. Dinner should be ready in about half an hour."
"I'm going to go take a shower." Sara announced. After the encounter with Michael, she needed some time to herself, to relax and to think.
"All right. I'll let you know when it's ready."
Just as Sara was about to walk out of the room, Emily spoke again. "Oh! I almost forgot! I saw Mommy kiss Santa Claus!" She exclaimed excitedly.
"Emily!" Sara said, turning back around sharply. She had thought Susie had kept Emily occupied while she'd been talking with Michael.
"Well, I did." Emily countered sullenly, shrinking slightly in her chair.
"Really?" Jim asked Emily, but raising an eyebrow in Sara's direction.
"Uh huh!" Emily said, nodding vigorously.
"Em, honey, why don't you go see if it's still snowing outside."
"Okay!" Emily hopped off her chair and scurried out of the room.
"What's this about kissing Santa?" Jim asked, sounding more amused than anything else.
Sara shook her head. "There was mistletoe. It didn't mean anything." She replied, coming over and kissing Jim on the lips.
"Whatever you say." Jim said, smiling and pulling her into his arms.
Carrie had turned the car radio to a station playing Christmas carols. She sang along softly for a few minutes while Michael drove through the streets of Chicago towards the apartment.
"I love Chicago in December." Carrie said suddenly, watching the snow fall.
"Mmmm."
"It's so peaceful."
"Yeah."
"With the snow and all."
"Mmmhmm."
Carrie glanced at Michael. He had been even quieter than usual since leaving the hospital. "Everything okay?" She asked.
He looked at her, and smiled faintly. "Yeah. Everything's all right."