ONLY HOPE

Author's Note: Prison Break. One-shot. Michael/Sara. Post-escape.

Disclaimer: Prison Break is not mine. Neither are any of the mentioned characters. Please refrain from the suing.

"I don't know what he's after. But he's so beautiful; he's such a beautiful disaster." – Kelly Clarkson

This night she knew he would come.

He never comes when it is light. He likes the dark. He likes her in the dark. The shadows move slowly and sensually, perfectly matching their movements. She likes him in the dark too. His skin seems to glow and his eyes sparkle.

He has never said a word to her. Except when he whispers her name in her ear. She hears his voice, her name, bouncing around her head for days after. She likes it; it helps give her an identity in a peculiar way.

She doesn't know why he does it. Why he comes to her. His patterns are erratic so she never expects him - though she finds herself hoping every night. She doesn't know how it got this far. How she let him in after swearing to herself not to. He had so many secrets. It would never work. She knows it to be true, but she cannot help herself.

She wants to be one of those strong women. Those women that would kick him in his nether regions and call the cops on him. But she can't. Because she wants it as much - maybe more - as he does.

So she waits in her bed every night. And she hopes.

It's not healthy, she knows. She's not getting any younger and she's had a fear of being alone since she was thirteen. She can't meet anyone, can't bring anyone home. What if he were to choose that night to visit her?

It was wrong. She didn't understand why she still held on. It had been nearly a year and Lincoln Burrows had still not been exonerated. There was no one fighting for them anymore. She could never be with him the way she truly wanted. But every time he lay beside her, his piercing eyes on her, she could not deny him.

This night she knew he would come. It was her birthday. She had ignored her father and brushed aside Katie's plea's to go out. She would stay and wait.

It was after midnight and she sat on the edge of her bed, staring into nothingness. She watched the shapes the moon made on the wall. Monsters and unnamable objects. She had been waiting for two hours. He was never this late. A black dread dropped from her throat and into her stomach. He wasn't coming. She had been wrong.

She held back her tears of disappointed and slipped under the covers. She felt helpless. He made her feel that way. She didn't like feeling that way. A bit of resolve formed inside of her. If he stayed away long enough, she might be able to move on. She talked herself through it. Convinced herself it could be done. She drifted off to sleep.

He stood by the door of her bedroom at 2AM. He watched her sleep. Even in the dark, you could see all sorts of guilt and shame showering his face. He wanted to walk away. He wanted to so badly. He was ruining her. He was being selfish. But he could not help himself.

He moved to stand over her and he watched her chest fall up and down as she breathed in her life. He reached his hand down to brush a strand of hair out of her face. Her eyes immediately shot open. She looked at him for a moment and he could see something in her eyes, but it was fading fast and then was gone altogether.

"Michael…" she whispered his name into the dark. He boxed the sound in his mind. The sound of her voice that he stored next to his brother's fighting soul, his nephew's smile and his mother's scent. Because when everything else failed, it was all he had.

"Happy Birthday," he said softly. It was the first thing he'd said to her, other than her name, since the visits began. She bit her bottom lip and slowly reached up to him to grab a fistful of his shirt. She pulled him down to her.

It had not been like this the first time. When he'd first come, not even a month after their escape, she'd stood frozen at her door as she looked upon him. Then she'd jumped back in shock, her eyes wide with fear. He'd taken the opportunity to quickly bustle into her house, closing the door. She'd reached for the phone but he pulled it out of her hand and threw it down the hall, a scowl on his face, his eyes shining.

"Sara," he'd said. She looked at him as if he'd said a dirty word and she'd proceeded to hit him. Pounding her clenched fists into his chest, wanting to hurt him and succeeding. He let her. Soon she began to scream and then he reacted. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her against the wall. She continued to scream so he pushed his mouth against hers.

She'd struggled at first and tried to pull away. He was persistent and she eventually conceded. He plied her mouth open and he tasted her and she let him. They stood there for minutes, just kissing. She forgot herself in those minutes. She forgot everything. All there was inside her mind was him.

She began to cry and he finally stopped. She'd dropped to the floor and remembered everything in an instant and knew she could not fight him and her own feelings. He held her until she stopped. Then he left.

But that was a long time ago now. So much had changed. She didn't fight him anymore. He'd began fighting her.

Tonight, on her birthday, he had planned to leave her for good. But he had failed himself and he had failed her. His will was not strong enough. He made love to her. Just the way she liked it. He kept his eyes on her as she arched her back and cried out beneath him. Her legs were tight around his waist and her nails scratched his back, re-opening previous wounds. Through the pain and the pleasure he watched her intently. Burning her into his mind.

He held her when they were finished, just like always. She rested her head on his chest and traced patterns with her fingers on his stomach. He looked at the ceiling like it was a calculus problem, and then closed his eyes.

"I love you, Sara." She stopped her movements; her head remained on his chest. "I'm not coming back."

She cried. She cried for him and for herself. She cried in despair and perhaps, relief. But he could not stop the tears this time. She had to do it on her own. He silently walked away. He left her. But at least he would never do it again.

Finis

Author's Note: This story was a present for my wonderful beta, Kristin. Enjoy!