A/N : Hey you guys! I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in ages, but I have a feeling that I'm on a bit of a hiatus where my PB stories are concerned. Don't be afraid, it's happend before, and I've come of it then, so I'll come out of it now. Anyway, these Sara Tancredi - feelings welled up inside of me when I saw the MiSa bits in "Sona". I really really hope you'll like it. Please let me know?

XO, as always

I just want you to know that I made it. But it's no good without you.

For what seemed the millionth time, Sara Tancredi raised her cellphone to her ear and pressed the button that would allow her to hear his voice again. She was sitting at the gate, anxiously awaiting the moment when they would call for her, and comforted herself with the words he had spoken in his last message to her.

The downside to falling in love with an escapee is the terrible pain that shot through your heart when it suddenly dawned on you that any second could be his last. On the count of one two three, there could be a shoved barrel in his face, and the clicking sound of the trigger being pulled would elicit a scream from deep inside of his chest. It would echo inside her very being, a riptide tearing through her body and the tingling sensation of her blood turning to dust.

She closed her eyes, feeling the comfort wash over her when he spoke to her, rambling the instructions he supposed she would never follow. If only he knew.

If only he knew that his brother was free…they didn't need to run anymore, but every click the second hand was making on her watch represented another step he was taking away from her, and inside the war zone. Click. Click.

"I just want you to know that I made it… but it's no good without you."

It was amazing how, just over a month ago, she hadn't even heard of Michael Scofield, and all of a sudden he had come to mean everything to her. The overwhelming need to melt into his embrace was there, like a shadow lurking in the corners of the infirmary, a dark tainted patch on the whiteness of the walls; but even after he'd escaped, she'd craved him.

Her fear of getting hurt had ruined everything for them. Nearly. He had come for her again, saved her from the demons that ran close behind her and enveloped her in his arms, his long, lean fingers reaching for her again and again. His lips drawing her to him.

The sky was a deafening shade of grey, the sign of thunderclouds rolling in to where she stood. She stared back, defying the sombreness. She wouldn't give up. For Michael, she wouldn't.

"Miss Tancredi?"

"Yes."

"We're ready for you."

So, pleaaaaase tell me what you think? Pretty please?

XO, as always