Author: Liayso
Disclaimer: I don't own Prison Break or it's characters. I just like making them the stars of my stories.
Author's Note: All rightie, here's the next chapter. I hope you guys like it.
"Mom?"
Michael was once again standing at the playground of his childhood past. His eyes followed his mother who had a stick in her hand, drawing a line across the sandbox.
"Mom?" Michael called out again, but she ignored him and continued to draw the line.
When the line was long and clear, she tossed the stick aside and walked up to the swing set. His mother motioned for him to come to her and like a good son, he obeyed. Taking a hold of one of the swing's chains, she simply said one word to her son, "Sit."
Michael complied and sat in the swing. His mother then pulled the swing back and gave him a little shove to get him started swinging.
She let out a little sigh. "Michael, do you know how disappointed I am?"
He looked down at the sand beneath his feet. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not the one you should be saying sorry to."
Michael remained quiet and tightly gripped the swing chains in his hands as his mother kept pushing him.
"You said you would try."
"I know."
"Then why Michael?"
"I..." Michael began, "I can't tell her. It would endanger the plan. It would endanger Linc." He took a deep breath. "It would endanger her."
She let out another sigh. "While true, that's just an excuse." His mother gave him another shove before continuing, "Michael, I know that when you made the decision to save Lincoln, you believed that you had to sacrifice all of Life's joys and gifts." She gave him another push as he swung back into her. "But that's not the case, Sweetie.
"As long as you're still alive, you have every right to want what you want, and you also have every right to go after it."
Michael dwelled on his mother's words, but he remained silent and let her continue speaking.
"You know that what I want for both you and Lincoln is for the two of you to be safe and happy. And obviously at the moment I can't get safe, so I'll settle for any amount of happiness that comes your way." She smiled woefully at her son. "I can tell that it's tearing you up inside how you have to keep lying to her, using her...and I understand why you can't tell her..." she trailed off as she gave him another push, "but the least you could do is show her where you stand when it comes to just her."
"Mom..." Michael began, his grip loosening on the chains, "I can't."
"Yes you can, Michael," she urged, "all you need is a little push."
Before Michael could blink, his mother pushed him with all her might and Michael was sent flying through the air out of his seat on the swing. He fell just short of the line his mother drew earlier, face first with a mouth full of sand. Michael spat the dirt from his mouth and wiped his face clean with his palm.
"Are you okay?"
He looked up at the sound of that voice and saw Sara, this time an adult, bent down slightly over him, with those worried eyes he has gotten so used to looking at. She extended a hand to him to help him up and he gladly accepted it.
"Yeah."
"Are you sure? You fell kind of hard."
Michael looked into her eyes and smiled a longing smile at her.
"In more ways than one."
Sara returned his smile with one of her own and took a step backwards. Michael looked down and saw that she had stepped over the line that his mother drew in the sand. She had crossed that line to help him up, but now it separated the two of them once again. He looked back up at her face. The two of them stared at each other, eyes searching and pleading for the other to cross the line so that the two could be together. Michael swallowed hard, signaling that he just couldn't, and with that, Sara broke their gaze. She turned around and began walking away from him.
"Sara..." Michael called after her, taking a step towards her but he stopped, hesitating just as he was about to cross the line in the sand.
His mother came up behind him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Michael turned to face her.
"Where do you stand, Michael?" she asked him.
He stared at her for a moment and then turned back to watch Sara's form shrinking in the distance as she walked away, getting farther and farther from him. He didn't want to be away from her, in any way, shape or form. Michael took a deep breath. He lifted his foot and set it down, over the line.
His mother smiled at him.
"Good job, Son."
--
A loud clanging sound stirred Michael from his slumber. He raised his head slightly, looking at his surroundings. He was in a dark room, lying on his stomach on a flat cot. Michael was confused at first but then he remembered that he was in the SHU. Sara had told Pope about her find, and he grilled Michael for some answers. He wouldn't give him any and it got his ass thrown into the SHU. The loud clanging sounded again and the door of his cell opened. A surge of light from the outside seeped in through the opening.
"Scofield," C.O. Louis' voice said, "the doc's here to see you."
He stepped aside revealing Sara, who had a medical bag with her.
"Can I get some light in here?" She asked Louis who nodded and lifted the switch on, filling the room with some illumination. "Thanks." He nodded at her and shut the door behind him as he stepped out.
Sara briefly glanced at Michael as she walked over and placed her bag next to him on the cot. She began rummaging through it.
Michael never took his eyes off her the moment she stepped into the room. "Why are you here?"
Without looking up at him she replied, "I still need to administer your shot to you and plus, I want to check on your back."
Michael nodded and moved to take off the grey prison sweater he was wearing. His back seared in pain as he stretched to pull the top off, but Michael gritted his teeth and held back his cries of pain. Once it was off, he set it to the side and Sara quickly took a hold of his arm, swabbed a cotton ball over it, and gave him his shot. Michael noticed that throughout the whole thing, Sara avoided all forms of eye contact. When she moved to check his back, he quickly grasped her wrist and forced her to look at him.
"Sara..."
"Michael, will you please just let me do my job?"
"Like what you did with the warden?" He said with more bitterness than he meant.
"As a matter of fact, yes," she pulled away from him and glared at him, "it's my job to report these things, Michael, and I'm sorry it got you thrown in here but you can't blame me for that."
"I know," Michael said, biting his bottom lip, his features softening a little bit. "Sorry for the outburst, I'm just frustrated."
"Now you know how I feel when I deal with you most of the time."
"I'm sorry."
There was a silent understanding between the two of them. Sara moved again to replace the bandage on his back and this time Michael let her. Michael watched her from out of the corner of his eye as she peeled the bloody bandage from his back and placed a clean one over his burn. He remembered what he talked about with his mother in his dreams.
"I think there's something in those painkillers you've been giving me."
"Why do you say that?"
"These past few nights, I've dreamt about my mother."
Sara stared at him. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because," Michael gripped the edge of his cot and looked up at her, "she talked to me about you."
"About me?"
Michael nodded and lowered his head, smiling. "She said you were a good person who has done a lot for me and that I should give you something in return." He looked back up at her. "But being a prisoner, there isn't much I can give you right now except the truth."
"And what's the truth, Michael?"
Michael swallowed hard and looked down once again. He took a nervous intake of breath and looked back up. Her eyes searched his for answers. He took a hold of her hand and brought it to his chest, cupping it so that she would feel his heart beating beneath it.
"My mom also told me to listen to my heart."
"Michael...?" Sara asked, feeling his heart begin to beat faster underneath her palm. Her own heartbeat began to match his own.
"The truth is..." he began, staring straight into her eyes...
"I've fallen for you."