Disclaimer: I don't own Prison Break or Wentworth Miller…Sad but true.

Rating: NG-17

Summary … And Sara knew then that Michael Scofield had given up for the very first time in his life.

Dedicated to my wonderful Chloe, who makes this possible.

Thank you for your magic touch.

Spoilers until 2x16, after that, just my sick imagination.

Note: This is a long chapter; I hope you won't hate me for it.

Paring: Michael/Sara

Title: The little things.

Chapter title: Destiny

By Lylou

Feedback is always like sex and coffee combined.

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"-…It was never personal Sara…"

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-"…But youll have to let them go."

Saras words floated for a few seconds in the dark air of the room.

She could perfectly feel Kellerman's iced eyes fixed in her, but she didnt care, Sara didnt even look at him.

She was busy trying to continue breathing and looking at Michael through all the shadows in that room.

And then, was when Sara really got scared.

Because to feel that mans hands on her skin or the cold wall at her back while he was thinking about her dark proposal, was nothing compared with Michael, handcuffed to that headrest, and without even looking at her direction.

And Sara knew then that Michael Scofield had given up for the very first time in his life.

He had his greenish gaze lost somewhere in the floor, as if everything has finished already … But Sara knew him much better than she was expecting in just a few months, surely more than himself, because she could guess painfully all the thoughts that were passing fast through Michaels beautiful and self-destructive mind.

And through hers:

"You are going to lose him…He is just another shadow in that room…

There is no trace of Michael Scofield inside him right now."

That was insupportable for Sara, she couldnt help to think that she had failed him like she had failed everyone else in her life.

Sara was used to seeing that disappointed look in the eyes of almost everyone she had known, like if everyone has supposed that she had to be the pretty little princess of some tale that she didn't even know about… "To fail people had become almost a habit for you."

But this time it was even more painful, not just because it was him, the only man that surely she had loved in her life… It was because he was Michael.

He had been the only person in her whole life that never had looked at her like if she had just broken his heart or if she had failed him, he was the only one that never had thought: "-She is weak."

She never had seen that disappointed look in his warm eyes.

But now Michael wasnt even looking at her and Sara knows very well what that means.

And with her clothes soaked by the rain outside and her wet hair adhered to her face, Sara thought again that it was unjustly easy to fall in love with Michael Scofield.

He was charming, adorable, interesting, a perfect gentleman… The guy you'll love to introduce your parents.

But Sara discovered time ago that it was exactly the way in what Michael had taken Lincoln out from Fox River.

Michael had persuaded everyone there, including her; he had manipulated and convinced everyone, including you… And he had broken out from a maxim security prison with other seven men.

And everything that, courtesy of the great and shiny Michael Scofield.

It was easy to love that man.

But Sara knew very well that there was another part of Michael Scofield, less shiny but much lonelier and much darker.

The one that was able to rip his hand and to paint the isolation cell walls with his blood, the one that could lose toes without asking for help or blink twice… The once needy and self-destructive, much more used to the pain and to the darkness than Sara would have wanted.

The one that would bleed to death for his brother.

Or for her.

Sara knew very well that part too, and she could swear that that side of Michael Scofield wasnt shiny, and that it wasnt made of fucking candy, paper flowers and opera tickets; it was dangerous, self-destructive and loved to feel guilty.

-"…And you are losing both now Sara, because one part of him would never forgive himself for that, and the other one, would never forgive you for have set him over you."

Sara took a breath and felt that man hand still tightening her wrist: "You are going to have new bruises tomorrow…"

But at this moment, Sara would consider herself more than lucky if they would live to see "tomorrow".

The rain and the lighting were still outside that motel room, where the world seemed to continue spinning around without them.

And all the thoughts passed through Saras mind in just a few seconds, like if it was an important revelation that she had finally understood and not just their destiny, catching and hitting them without mercy.

But then Sara felt that man pulling furiously from her, and pushing her face down against the small night table, and then the destiny seemed more near and implacable for her.

For them.

Sara felt the hard wood against her face and she felt the taste of her own blood in her mouth when she bit her lip with the hit.

He grabbed her wrists strongly at her back and Sara saw the small table lamp broken in the floor, the weak and yellowish light from it was now inclined and all the shadows in the room seemed differently suddenly.

Sara felt the free hand of that man over her wet hair and along the side of her face that wasnt pressed against the night table, it was disgusting and Sara knew that surely she would never forgot his touch.

She felt his hot breathing in her ear and she sensed a cold canine smile in his lips when he spoke:

-"I thought you have just mistaken the room sweetheart… "

He looked suspiciously to Kellerman, who was still silent and quiet with the gun in his hand… but Paul didn't move.

The man holding Sara brushed his look away from Kellerman and talked again near her ear:

-"You are pretty … But your not worth four-hundred thousand… especially if I can have you now."

Sara took a deep breath when she listened to his words and made as if she wasnt feeling the cold cannon of his gun in her neck, he released her hands and Sara listened the metallic noise of his belt and of his fly opening.

And the rest, happened fast.

She looked at Kellerman for the first time; he was looking at her with those teasing and vigilant eyes with ones he had looked at her when he had made her laugh in the stairway of a church a warm evening, the same ones with he had looked at Sara when he had electrocuted her in the bathtub of a not that far motel.

"-It was never personal Sara…"

Paul eyes sparkled and Sara saw him looking at her through the shadows. And she also saw his fingers around the gun with the silencer … He continued immobile.

"Do you really have thought that damn Paul Kellerman would help you somehow?"

But yes.

She had looked at him and for a fraction of a second Sara thought that maybe he would save her.

That maybe he would save all of them.

But Sara decided that she would worry about what could do that mean after, because then she heard Michael's voice half suffocated by the thunders and by the storm outside.

He was screaming her name like Sara had never heard him before and looking desperately and lost at her.

The man with the cold cannon against Sara's neck smiled at Michael insultingly, but his face changed fast when he saw Michael rising of the bed and walking furiously to him, until the short chain of the handcuffs around his wrist stopped shortly him.

But Sara saw his eyes and knew that definitively Michael wasnt there anymore; and she knew too that if it hadn't been for the short and metallic chain of the handcuffs in his wrist, Michael would have killed that man right there.

Her aggressor smiled again and then he looked with his free hand for Saras jeans clasp and she could felt his hands a bit less decided and more tremulous than just a seconds before.

Michael had scared him, and was scaring her too.

Sara never had seen that look in Michael's familiar eyes before and never had heard his voice sounding that full or rage "You are losing every little piece of him… The man you love is not there anymore."

Lincoln was standing-up now, but he was immobile and handcuffed too, looking worried to his young brother.

The other aimed man, the one that was standing in the door, was looking more and more nervous; from where she was Sara could intuit his lips moving but he didn't become to speak out loud, he had lowered his gun slowly and was looking worried at his buddy, who was still holding Sara strongly against the night table.

But then everything else seemed too vanished for her, because Sara listened to the metallic noise of the big and heavy bed being dragged slow and painfully upon the floor.

Sara saw terrified Michael dragging heavily the bed, pulling it painfully with his handcuffed wrist; and Sara could see too his handcuffed wrist covering fast with his own dark blood.

Sara didn't even see the look of pain in Michael's face because he wasn't seeming to feel it, but it must have hurt like hell because he was clearly cutting his own wrist skin while he was dragging the heavy bed: "-The one that would bleed to dead for his brother. Or for you"

Sara felt hot tears rolling over her face and mixing with the blood of her mouth when she saw that Michael wasn't even aware that he was suffering in vain, because she knows very well that he could never save her.

Sara hated the vision of his blood smudging painfully the dark ink underneath his skin, and she knew then that she was going to see Michael Scofield bleeding for her many times in her nightmares.

The man holding her seemed to recover his guts and smiled, mostly because after the initial shock, surely he understood that Michael would never break loose of the handcuffs to stop him; Sara felt the cold cannon pressed upon her neck but she didn't care, she didn't care about a damn right now except Michael, ripping his skin, bleeding for nothing and screaming under the storm:

-"You are a dead man…..I will kill you!!"

Sara listened clearly to the rage, the desperation and the fear in Michael's voice; Sara was used to the man with a low and warm voice that he always had when he was talking to her, but now Sara didnt even listen a small tone of that man.

And that worried her much more than the cold cannon in her neck and more than that man hands on her.

Michael screamed her name again and Sara felt the salty taste of her tears mixed with the blood when she heard Michael screaming her name like that, like as if she had died in front of his eyes, like as if she had abandoned him like everyone else in his life… Like as if she had failed him.

She wished to shout at Michael then, say to him that she didn't want to hear him saying her name like that never again in her whole life.

Sara wished to shout at him saying that he was scaring her, much more than that man behind her who was about to ruin forever the little happiness that maybe they would still have, all the little things that they could still keep…

But then Sara stopped feeling the cold cannon in her neck and she saw the gun upon the small night table, shining and terribly far from her reach.

Sara still needed a few seconds more to understand that he had released his gun because he needed his two hands to keep her hold and bent face down against that table "How the hell would he ruin your life just with one hand?"

That was the last crazy thought that crossed through Saras mind before the heard an unidentified sharp whisper near the porch door and another one just behind her, followed by two thuds in the floor.

Sara blinked fast twice and looked at Michael; He wasnt screaming anymore, now he was looking surprised and confused to somewhere behind her, but the only thing that Sara could saw and care about was Michael's blood, dripping slowly and dark to the floor.

-"…Sara…"

She listened to her name at her back and she moved her look from Michael's blood and turned slowly and with the hot tears still in her eyes.

Sara's scared and tired mind didn't even wonder why she wasn't feeling her aggressor impatient hands underneath her clothes and why he wasn't searching for the clasp of her jeans anymore until just a moments after, when her trembling legs stumbled with something in the floor, and then Sara could saw her attacker laying in the floor, spitting blood by his mouth and fighting for continue breathing.

She felt her heartbeats accelerating in her ears and then she tripped with the moribund man in the floor and lost her equilibrium, but Sara felt an arm around her waist holding her fast and impeding her fall to the floor next to her aggressor, whom was dying slowly and painfully.

Sara felt someone holding her and a not totally unknown hand in the small of her back holding her securely, until she could felt again the world spinning at his normal speed.

"-Sara…"

Pauls nervous and tense voice too near to her ear and his arm around her waist, holding her gently against his chest, made her react finally.

Sara could saw his gun shining in his other hand and she felt the powder smell still trapped in the air of that dark and dirty motel room.

She looked still a bit messed-up to the two men in the floor.

Then one that had been leant against the door was completely dead now, and the other one, the one that had been holding her bent and face down against the table trying to rape her, now, was agonizing near to her feet.

Paul Kellerman had shot them both.

Sara felt the air slowly filling her lungs again and looked at Paul, this time being fully conscious of what had have just happened for the very first time, and still with Paul's breathing upon her hair and his arm holding her against his chest.

She blinked twice and opened her mouth to say something, but she didnt came to say it out loud.

She listened to the rain outside hitting the blinds noisily but it didnt seem totally real for Sara.

"Would you really have thought that the damn Paul Kellerman would help you somehow?"

But yes.

He had done it; the son of a bitch had shot twice and had saved the day.

And by the way, he had saved her.

And Sara knew that surely she would ask herself "Why" for a very long, long time.

She was still feeling his hand in the small of her back and the heat off of his body only a very few centimeters from her.

Paul Kellerman.

The man that had tortured and tried to kill her only a week ago had just saved her from being raped in front of the man that she loved; and now Paul was holding her, he had whispered her name into her ear just a second ago and he was holding her softly against his chest in that tumbled and dark motel room like as if she didn't hate him more than anything.

Paul looked straight into her with those enigmatic eyes, like always and like never before.

"-…Sara…"

The she listened to Michael's worried and anxious voice behind her, calling her softly, but even then, Sara could feel how his familiar and warm tone wasn't there still; she could feel it even being backwards to him and still in Paul's arms.

Then Sara remembered Michael's blood falling painfully from his wrist, his lost glaze and the desperate way in which he had shouted her name just a minute before.

She loosed easily of Paul's arms and recoiled slowly a few steps, still looking surprised and confused at him.

Sara was still listening to her heart beating fast into her ears, but even then, she saw perfectly Paul's look in the half darkness: He was looking at her like as if… like as if he had wanted to keep her embrace for a few seconds more, like as if he had been at the verge of kissing her…

"Like if the damn Paul Kellerman had just discovered that he is in love with you.

Shut up… I don't want to even think about that."

Sara stopped her crazy thoughts hardly; right now she already had enough things to worry about without that.

She separated her sight of Paul and walked fast until where Michael had dragged the bed "for you", but even backwards, Sara still could felt Paul's gaze settle over her a few seconds more; then that strange moment passed and Sara listened to Paul at her back, taking the small keys of the handcuffs from the pocket of one of the dead men in the floor and passing them to Lincoln.

Sara forget momentarily about Paul and wrapped her arms around Michael's neck, holding him as tight as she could, feeling his breathing upon her still wet and uncombed hair and his lips moving slowly in her earlobe:

-"…Sara…"

Michael said her name like a whisper and it sounded too far and too sad for her.

It sounded as if she was in some other room and the only thing that she had listened to would have been the echo of her name fading slowly, it sounded as if he had been searching for her and saying her name without rest during years and now he was beginning to loose hope… Michael said it as if she wasn't breathing in his neck, as if she wasn't there.

-"Michael… I'm here…

I'm here."

But he didn't answer; Michael just tightened his grip around her.

Sara leaned her forehead to his chest and closed her eyes for a moment, feeling Michael's free hand in the small of her back "Just were Paul had has his a seconds before.

Shut up."

She smelled the familiar scent of Michaels skin underneath the white fabric of his t-shirt and she felt hot tears in her eyes.

But then Lincoln, who had already released himself, threw the small and shinny keys upon the bed, Sara caught them and with a fast move opened the small lock of the handcuff around Michael's injury wrist.

"Try to no to think that this is Michael's blood… Don't think that he had made this to himself trying to save you."

It was useless, but even then Sara tried.

The handcuff opened finally and Michael could hold her with his two arms, and Sara felt her warm tears damping the fabric of his t-shirt; she raised her head a bit and looked at Michael, finding something of the man that she loved.

He wasn't there, but Sara saw a small light at the end of their tunnel when Michael sifted his hand gently through her face and her hair.

Lincoln was looking in silence and a bit worried to them and to the three dead bodies in the floor, the last two ones and the one that Paul had killed before and cold blooded in the porch.

Everything had happened fast and Lincoln felt that he was going to need a drink soon; he turned to look at Kellerman, who was busy taking from the floor the guns of the men that he had killed, and asked him:

-"If you had thought to help her since the beginning… Why the hell do you take it so long?"

Kellerman looked again to the table and to the small lamp broken on the floor and projecting inclined shadows in the dark wall, he listened to the rain outside and looked at Michael and Sara hugging and whispered to the other side of the room, then he looked again to Lincoln and spoke in his usual distant tone of voice:

-"If you shoot someone who is holding a gun, the most possible is that he shoots before to fall… Believe me; I know what I'm talking about."

Lincoln looked at him in silence and Paul spoke again:

"-…I had to wait until he had left the gun."

Lincoln looked at his young brother at the other side of the bed, embracing Sara and staining her t-shit with his blood without even noticing it.

He turned to Paul again and spoke:

-"What if he didn't do it, what if he didn't leave the gun?"

Paul smiled soft and coldly and walked to the door while he was speaking:

-"I never thought in other possibilities Borrows."

Lincoln looked at him in silence for a few seconds, and then he looked again to Michael; Sara was examining his wrist and considering the concerned look in her face and all the blood, it had to hurt like hell, but Michael didn't even blink, he was just looking at Sara like if he hadn't seen her in years.

-"There are three men or something dead in that room…

We have to go."

Paul's voice sounded upset and demanding, he looked around one more time and opened the porch door.

Lincoln went out and he felt the cold and furious rain on his skin. Michael walked slowly, holding Sara against his chest to the opened door, his wounded wrist was in the small of her back, leaving dark blood stains on her shirt; Sara was beginning to feel everything returning to the normality, she was walking almost leant in Michael chest, feeling his soft breathing upon her hair; but when they passed to the open door that Paul was holding Sara raised her eyes and looked at Paul, and she saw the same look that she had seen when he was holding her before.

Sara saw guilt, sadness, fear and a thousand of little things more in his eyes.

And while the four were getting in silence into the car to leave that place under the storm and with the rain soaking them, Sara remembered Paul's more nearest to an apologize words that he had given to her once: "-It was never personal Sara…"

But it never had seemed more personal to Sara, than that moment.

To be continued…

Feedback is always like sex and coffee combined.