A/N : I know! I know, I know, I know, I'm a bad girl for starting a new story when my others aren't finished, but you guys know how I can get - once something gets stuck in my head, it won't leave me alone until I write it down.

Please tell me if you like this and if I should continue. Please?

She'd been quiet enough. At least, that's what she'd thought up until the moment she heard the door to her building being swung open and her name being called. Damn it.

"Sara!"

The same way he'd called her name every other moment when she'd tried – and failed – to be clever and use the fire escape to elude him. She hadn't been using the front door for ages – not since he'd figured out where she lived nowadays and decided on moving to her doorstep to…beg for forgiveness, she supposed. What he was doing was making her feel self-conscious, insecure and emotional. Things had gone as far as her having to put a sign on the inside of her door that spelled 'NO', the way she'd done to her cabinet and secret hiding places for morphine.

No. She'd quit her addiction. She'd quit morphine. And now, she would quit Michael Scofield, too.

It was probably one of the old ladies neighbouring her that had let him in – they were a sucker for his eyes. Like she had been. Was. Or maybe he'd just broken in. He was Michael Scofield after all. The man had broken out of prison and had broken her heart all at the same time. He was a briljant demolisher. Where would he cross the line?

At her door, it seemed.

She supposed that she admired his patience a little. But some days it just pissed her off. Like when all she wanted to do was go to work, finish her day and go home without hoping to find him on her frontstep or seeing him in her rearviewmirror.

She sighed. "Yes?"

His shoulders sagged a little, the way they always did when their conversation turned out cold. An ache shot through her heart – the way it always did when their conversation turned out cold. It was their usual routine, but Sara was still surprised to feel it. She berated herself – she was supposed to quit him, damn it. Her heart just wasn't make this any easier.

"Aren't you ever going to talk to me?" His voice sounded soft – it, and he, sounded broken. "Please."

That last whispered plea almost got the best of her. She closed her eyes briefly, before turning away from him and walking, seemingly strong, in the direction of her car. "Not today."

Afterwards,when she sat behind the wheel, she wondered if she thought she was being strong or just plain stupid.It was a question with an answer that she had pushed to the back of her mind – a question of a truth that she didn't trust herself with. What did it matter anyway? Sara had learned her lesson on opening up her heart to people. Only a real idiot would make that mistake twice. Or, as her nana had once said: "There are a million different types of stupid, but only a real pathetic idiot will be the same type of stupid twice."

Michael

He'd tried, and tried. Then he'd tried some more. It's not that he didn't realise how much he'd hurt her, or that he'd never be forgiven. But all that aside, he also realised that he needed her, loved her and couldn't live without her. He knew that somehow he'd get to her and show her what she meant to him.Which was more than he could express with words. Though he'd tried that too. Sara hadn't listened, and he couldn't say that he blamed her. He would just keep on trying.

After they'd found a way for Lincoln to be exonorated; they being Veronica, Lincoln and himself (LJ being the devoted sidekick), he'd made looking for her his number one priority. Not that she'd hadn't been on his mind 24/7 to begin with…

It wasn't easy, especially when Veronica flat out refused him to use her lawyer skills and resources to help him track her down, claiming that he needed to clean up his own messes. He'd rolled his eyes and glared at her. She woud've jumped through hoops to help Lincoln. Lincoln, who wasn't a real big help either. Sure, his brother tried to be supportive, but his constant praising of Sara before reminding Michael of how badly he'd screwed up weren't always appreciated.

The only one that he'd be able to talk to about this, about her – was on the run. Fernando Sucre was still a wanted man in America. Michael just hoped that his buddy was happy, hiding out somewhere with Maricruz and their kid. He missed Sucre, nearly as much as he missed her.

"And?"

He looked up at his nephew from his spot on the bed and sadly shook his head. LJ sighed and sat down next to his uncle. "You know, I hate to say this, Uncle Mike, but maybe you should just give up. It's been a month."

Michael closed his eyes. "I'm not letting her go, LJ."

The teenager nodded in acceptance. "Do you think she'll eve-"

"MICHAEL!"

Both men rolled their eyes at Lincoln's once again rude interruption of their conversation, but the smiles on their faces faded quickly once they realised who urgent, and awkward Lincoln's voice had sounded. "Lincoln?"

"Could you come here for a second? You'll want to see this."

Michael jumped and walked over to where his brother was sitting in front of the tv, the beer in his hand seemingly forgotten. His eyes turned towards the screen, where a live reporter was talking to the camera. Wait a minute – he knew those gates.

"And for the second time in a considerably short ammount of time, the prisoners of Fox River State penitentiary seem to have lost it. This time under the supervision of a new warden, things have gone pear-shaped. Now only one question will remain : What will be done? No word as of yet about the demands of the inmates, but as we've all learnt from the last time this happened – they will stop at nothing."

Michael had been standing paralysed behind his older brother, as if the news was just rolling over him like a tidalwave. That all changed when the camera travelled the walls of the prison and the window to the infirmary came in sight.

The last thing he heard before rushing out the door was Lincoln shouting his name in fear.

Please tell me what you think? Please?

XO