A/N: My bad. I honestly meant to have this up ages ago but I had mock orals last week and my official ones are in a few weeks so I'm up to my neck in Irish and German. So sorry about that! I'm not overly happy with this chapter but enjoy it none the less. I have the final chapter started but I'm really busy at the moment so it could be a while. Please don't give up on me just yet!
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, never will
Live Without Him
The shrill beeping of the alarm clock shattered the tranquil silence of his dreams. The sound was one which had become foreign to him lately. He reached his arm across and swatted at the clock, releasing a thankful sigh as the incessant noise ceased. He sank his head back into the pillow. Sara snuggled closer to him and murmured something unintelligible in her sleep. Alarms never had worked for her. Michael pulled her closer an savoured the bittersweet moment of normalcy. He gazed around the room. The curtains were pulled shut yet the window was framed with sunlight which fought its way into the room. The mirror on the dresser showed a darker reflection of Michael's surroundings. At least from this angle. The sounds of traffic reached his ears mixed with the cheerful song of birds. In another lifetime this would have been perfect.
He let out a weary sigh. He pressed a kiss to Sara's head before he gently nudged her awake.
"C'mon Sara, time to get up." He murmured in a sing-song voice.
"Why?" She muttered, her voice thick with sleep.
"We talked about this last night remember? We're going shopping." He told her sleepy form. She groaned and snuggled closer to him, pulling the blanket tighter around them and promptly shutting her eyes to return to the world of sleep., If it hadn't been for the lack of a smile on her face, Michael would have been tempted to believe that everything was alright again.
"Five more minutes" He suggested. He wasn't quite ready to let go of the moment.
"Five more minutes." She murmured in agreement. Five more minutes, Michael thought as he pulled her closer and watched the room fade as his eyes fluttered shut.
It was a loud 'thunk' which woke him. He jolted awake and twisted his head toward the clock. He groaned. Their five minutes had lasted almost an hour. His mind wandered back to the sound which had woken him. He replayed the noise in his head several times before dismissing it as a bird hitting the window. He'd check once he woke Sara up.
"Sara" He nudged her shoulder and tweaked her nose. She scrunched it up in response and turned her head away from him into the comfortable safety of her pillow.
"C'mon Sara. We stayed in too late. It's nearly ten o' clock. Please get up! C'mon Sara!" He was nearly whining.
"Five more minutes." She muttered and buried her head further into the pillow without waiting for a response.
"Nuh uh. Not falling for it Sara. You got you five minutes already. It's time to get up." He rolled her over to face him. He leaned over her and lightly kissed her.
"I don't want to go." She whispered against his lips. He pulled back to look at her. Her face was so mournful that his heart nearly broke for her.
"Sara, it's something we have to do. And I need you there with me. We don't have to talk to anyone. We can be as rude as we like and ignore everyone but if we don't go it's likely we will starve in the next few days."
She looked at him and nodded. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes to rid them of sleep while he hopped out of bed and threw back the curtains. He quickly scanned the windowsill and the ground below the windowsill for any sign of a bird but, seeing none, returned back to the bed. Sara pulled her hands away but shut her eyes to block out the offending sunlight that streamed into the room. She groaned. Michael wasn't even sure why she wanted to stay in bed. It wasn't like she was going to get any more sleep. Neither of them had done much of that lately. Last night had been the first time in a while that they had both slept for more than a few hours at a time. Michael sighed at his wife before gripping the ends of the quilt and yanking it off the bed. Sara groaned at the sudden cold and curled her knees into her chest
"C'mon Sara, its time to get up. I'll go make some breakfast. Coffee and toast?"
A barely audible "yes" came from the pillow. He smiled and left the room.
He handed her a plate of toast and a mug of coffee as she sat down at the breakfast counter. She lifted the mug and inhaled the aroma. Black. Just how she liked it. No point in tainting the taste with milk she claimed. He was inclined to agree.
"You need a shower?" he asked her, munching on a slice of slightly overdone toast. She nodded as she swallowed a mouthful of coffee, gasping at its heat. Michael looked at her.
"You okay Sara?" She nodded and blew on the coffee.
"Hot".
Michael grinned at her and gently sipped his own coffee.
"I'll be quick"
He looked at her and shot her a questioning glance.
"With the shower. I'll be quick." He nodded but her eyes were focused on her coffee, blowing softly on it again, so he doubted she saw him.
"I'll make a list."
"Huh?" she looked at him, momentarily confused.
"For the shopping, I'll make a list of what we need."
"Oh, yeah, sure." She set down her mug - still half full - and pushed her stool back from the counter, wincing as it scraped on the tiles.
He stood by the bay window in the living room and stared into the street as the sound of the shower began to hum around him instilling in him an odd sense of calm. Despite it being midday the street was quiet. They didn't live in a busy part of town yet the unusual lack of people was unnerving to him. He wondered if there was something he'd forgotten about. Something he was missing. The sight of his neighbour from three doors down walking his rather overweight daschund filled him with relief. Mr Ingram raised a wary hand in greeting, his face nervous, his feet moving that little bit faster. Michael nodded at him and stared after him as he moved quickly down the street, almost dragging the struggling daschund behind him. Six minutes went by with no further sign of life and Michael was beginning to despair again when a teenager on a bike decided to grace the sidewalk, a dark green helmet balanced precariously on his head. Some use it would be like that, Michael mused. The seconds went by with loud ticks of the clock punctuating the whirring of the shower and splashing of the water. He felt lonely. He glanced down to the coffee table at the picture frame which had yet to find a permanent home. He reached down and his lithe fingers traced the knolls and knots in the varnished wood. His eyes roamed the room looking for a place to hang it. They settled once again over the fireplace. Sighing he moved away from the frame as he heard the shower switch off. He felt oddly relieved that Sara would be out soon. He should probably get started on that list.
Twenty minutes later saw Michael standing on the front doorstep waiting for Sara to lace up her shoes. A list a mile long rested in his back pocket. Half of the things they needed weren't even on it but Sara had become impatient with his over-riding need to plan even the simple things before he had a chance to complete the list. It seemed that Lincoln had emptied their house of all food and most likely brought it home with him. Which meant that Michael and Sara had to essentially start over.
"Okay let's do this." She said, sanding up, her voice steely with determination. Michael smiled at her but she marched past him to the car.
"Hey! I'm driving!" He shouted after her and she opened the drivers door. He jogged up to her.
"You're not driving." He stated, standing in her way of the car.
"Why?" She demanded, hands on her hips, eyes narrowed, head thrust forward. He almost smiled at her familiar 'I'm angry' pose. He repressed the smile however as he realised he didn't have a particularly valid reason. Well other than the fact that he didn't think she was up to driving so soon. But there was no way he was going to risk his life by telling her that. Instead he shrugged and moved to the passenger side of the car, sliding in and swiftly fastening his seatbelt. Sara had a tendency to drive fast when she was mad…
Michael let out a sigh of relief when they arrived, unscathed and still breathing, in the parking lot of the supermarket. Sara had driven over the speed limit the entire way and she had turned corners a little to fast and sharp for Michael's liking. He discovered half-moon indentations in his palm - evidence of how tightly he had fisted his hand. He ignored the fact that his legs were shaking as he got out of the car.
It felt like going back in time. He hunched over the shopping cart, head bowed low, face buried behind the collar of his jacket. She linked her arm through his and pulled herself as close to him as possible. Her scarf covered the lower half of her face and she too wanted to avoid being noticed. It was so similar to situations Michael had been in while on the run that he had to keep reminding himself that he was free. Glancing up he noticed their neighbour Mrs O Malley coming towards them. He quickly steered the cart and Sara into the nearest aisle and hoped she hadn't seen them. The last thing either of them needed to hear right now was how great her grandson Geoffrey was doing.
He pulled the list from his pocket and quickly scanned it for anything they needed from this particular aisle. He had most of the items committed to memory but he wanted to appear as if he was actually doing something. He sighed. This was going to be a long shopping trip.
They kept their gaze glued to the ground, only raising their heads to pull something off a shelf. They avoided eye contact with other shoppers and purposefully averted their eyes from the smiling babies on tins of milk formula, the bottles, soothers and bumper packs of Pampers that lined the shelves. Michael couldn't wait to get out of their and, judging from the strength of the grip Sara had on his arm, he guessed she felt the same.
He paused at the checkouts, considering his options, considering his options. Should he go to the shortest queue with the chattiest salesgirl who would scan his items through quick and then they could leave or should he join one of the longer queues, thus prolonging his stay but avoiding awkward conversations about the weather and how he was felling toady. He glanced at Sara who was absentmindedly pulling at a loose thread on her jacket cuff. He took in her slouched stance and weary expression and opted for the quick checkout and awkward conversation. Maybe if he avoided eye contact and didn't smile at her she would take the hint.
No such luck.
"Good morning Mr. Scofield!"
Michael quickly disguised his scowl as a forced smile of greeting. He hated when people recognised him.
"Mrs. Scofield."
Sara looked up, startled.
"Huh?"
"Great weather isn't it?" Michael interjected quickly, drawing the girls attention away from his wife. She took the bait and jumped at the chance to talk about the mild weather and the face that it had been so warm on her recent holiday to somewhere thousands of miles away from The Windy City. Michael wished he could miles away from Chicago. He tuned her words out, focusing instead on the speed at which her hands scanned the items. They blurred with the bold colours of the packaged goods to form a distorted rainbow. He shook his head as she scanned the last of the items through. He fished his wallet from his pocket and turned to the girl who was looking at him with a curious eye. Michael hoped she hadn't asked hi a question. He read the amount of the display and handed her the crisp notes. She smiled warily as she handed him back his change. He politely thanked her, slid the money into his pocket and turned to the cart, which the packing boy had loaded with the filled bags. He had clearly noticed the couples discomfort. Michael shot him a grateful glance and smiled as the boy rolled his eyes at the salesgirls back. Michael grabbed the cart and practically ran from the shop, Sara's arm still wrapped firmly round his.
He leaned back against the car with a sigh after loading the bags into the car. Sara stood beside him still fiddling with the thread on her cuff.
"That was hell". Michael exhaled a long breath.
"It's exactly why I don't ever want to leave the house again. I can't stand people staring at me." Michael pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back gently as she sighed against his shoulder.
"It'll get better, easier." Michael told her. She sighed.
"Take me home." Michael nodded and slowly pulled away from her. They got into the car and slowly made their way from the parking lot, Sara, glad to be going home, Michael glad to be driving.
