If the last few days had been bad, then this was in flight purgatory, slightly less painful but with the ever lingering knowledge that an even greater pain was lurking just around the corner waiting to spring out, like some hired greeter at the airport holding up it's foreboding sign: Welcome to Hell, Sara Tancredi!

Sara glanced now at the small, shorn head lowered in concentration over the array of multi-colored Lego pieces that were laid out on the plush carpeting before him. David had been released from the hospital earlier that morning. And finally after much fussing over, mostly from his Grandma and Poppy, mother and son had been left alone in the quiet cottage.

Clearing her throat slightly, Sara lowered herself to the floor and scooted up beside the busy builder. "David, I ah, I think I need to explain a few things to you." When his small eyes looked up to meet hers, Sara continued, "About me and Paul…about us."

"Can't you just let him say sorry, Mommy, I think he's sorry?"

This floored through Sara like a 747 bringing with it the knowledge that Paul had beaten her to the punch; that he must have spoken to David at the hospital before her arrival that morning. So much for the belief that he had stayed away out of some sort of respect for her and David. But how could Paul do this, on top of everything else?

At least it explained why David had been so quiet this morning. But this knowledge, that her son had been holding it all in, hurting, only heightened her resentment towards Paul.

Peeling apart her tightly pursed lips, Sara pushed aside the anger she was feeling, "It's not always that simple, David…What…What exactly did Paul say to you?"

"He said that you guys aren't gonna get married anymore 'cause he messed things up, but he loves me and it's nothing I did, and it's not your fault either, so I shouldn't blame you," David's lower lip was starting to tremble now, and his big eyes were filling up with tears, "I can still hang out with Paul; he can still be my friend, even if you don't like him anymore, can't he Mommy?"

So many emotions were sent flooding through Sara that at first all she could manage was a nod. Finally, "Of course, of course Paul's still your friend, David."

It felt like someone was squeezing Sara's heart as she watched the tears on her son's eyelids topple and fall. She just wanted to scoop him into her arms and tell him everything would be okay, that she would fix things with Paul, that she would let him say sorry, but instead she took a deep gulp of air and made herself continue, "You know I love you sweetheart and I would never do something if I didn't think it was absolutely the best thing for you…for both of us…You do know that, don't you?"

"Uh, huh, I guess so," David nodded and swiped at his eyes and nose.

"We're gonna be okay, David, I promise…you believe me don't you?"

He nodded again and then Sara did take her son into her arms.

And as she held him tightly she vowed to make good on her promise…no matter what.

XXXXX

"It's over Linc. She doesn't want me, she doesn't want us…The summer…It's finally over. I think it's been over for a while, for Sara…I just didn't want to believe there wasn't some part of her that might still love me…that could…That might still think about us back then…and …And maybe want that back." The words leaving his mouth held a harsh quality that was not directed at Sara but rather inwardly, for his own misplaced belief in fairy tales and dreams, where in the end, love would prevail triumphant over all. "It's too late, Michael, we're not in Chicago anymore." Those nine words had torn through Michael, shattering those dreams once and for all, as if to prove they were an ethereal and transparent illusion, the cruelest of tricks by the slipperiest of all magicians, false hope.

"She's just upset Michael. Give her some time. I'm sure she'll come around." When this got no response, "The two of you share a child, that's a bond Michael. And I've seen the way Sara looks at you."

"The way she looks at me?" Shaking his head, "She looks at me like…When she will look at me, Linc, she…" Michael paused then, his brother's eyes upon him, hard but not in judgment, he knew this, but he couldn't blame Lincoln if he were to judge him, he deserved it. "I left her, Linc. I left and I shouldn't have. I should have stayed or taken Sara with me…Taken her somewhere…We could have run off and…"

"And then what Michael, the two of you would have done what, gotten jobs doin' whatever…Until you were both eighteen…then what?" Lincoln tried to reason.

"Whatever it would take Linc, whatever it would have taken for Sara and me to be together…To raise our son together." The pain in Michael's eyes shone brightly then, his blue eyes appearing more aquatic washed in tears as they were.

Did Michael think he hadn't suffered enough? That the solitude he had kept in his prison wasn't sentence enough for the mistakes of a boy…a confused boy who only did what he thought was right, his actions and decisions made out of love? It killed Lincoln to think his brother might actually think himself deserving of this, that Michael might blame himself for things he couldn't possibly have controlled at the tender age of seventeen.

Unwilling to give up just yet, Linc pressed harder, "So do that now, Man. Why don't you do that now? Do whatever it takes to make Sara see how much she and David mean to you. Don't just walk away never knowing if…"

"But I do know Linc. I do know…I may have a chance with my son, and I intend to do whatever I have to do to make that happen, but I don't think I can fix things with Sara. Sometimes…Some things, they're just too broken to fix."

"Mike…"

Michael held up his hand, "Linc, I just I need to be alone right now, okay? Please…"

Nodding, Lincoln backed off. He was halfway out the door when he realized what needed to be done. If Michael wasn't going to talk to Sara, he would just have to do it for him.

XXXXX

The cottage was quiet, maybe too quiet for Sara as she sat at the small kitchen table, the only sound the slight rustling of the newspaper in her hands. She was paging through the classified section. She had decided to wait until David was safely tucked in bed to start searching the fine print, not wanting to upset her overly observant son any further with the news that moving out of the cottage he had come to call home was inevitable, the news could wait. David had endured enough for one day, it was evident in his every movement. In fact he had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow and if Sara was to be honest, she was exhausted too.

But this exhaustion didn't dim the determination in her eyes, not in the least. The cottage belonged to Paul and she wanted nothing from the man. The idea that Paul Kellerman should have any claim on any aspect of her life, any hold over her whatsoever was unsettling to Sara to say the least, but in order to cut all ties she had to find a place for herself and David to live.

This was what drove Sara as her eyes scanned over the countless small ads, each one promising that this apartment was the one with all the amenities, close to fine dining, shopping, etc. What she really wanted was their old apartment back, but an earlier call had shot that small hope down, the place was full, with not a single vacancy expected until autumn.

Sara flipped yet another page and delved in.

Location was what she needed to concentrate on, that was what was important, well that and expense. She tapped a finger on a promising ad and then circled it twice in heavy ink. Good location and affordable. Expense was definitely a factor, Sara's bank account was nearing zero, what with having taken the summer off from her job at the hospital. But she couldn't go back there; working at Mercy General was not an option. Just the idea of seeing Paul on a daily basis was enough to make Sara's stomach churn.

Earlier that morning, leaving the Apolskis' to entertain David, Sara had made a few quick phone calls to local area hospitals inquiring about nursing positions. Luck was with her, and she been able to set up an interview at Victory Memorial for the following day. If her luck held, Sara would be back among the gainfully employed within a week.

She had just circled another ad, when a light but determined knock carried through the small rooms of the cottage. The intrusive noise made Sara's spine straighten. She wasn't expecting anyone at this late hour and if her visitor was either of the two men who came to mind…

Maybe they would just go away? But no sooner had this been thought, then the knocking sounded again, louder if anything, and the worry that it would awaken David got Sara on her feet and moving.

Her irritation and dread was increasing with each step as Sara made her way to the door, but when she looked out the side window her ill feelings quickly dissipated, like the air being let out of a balloon.

Lincoln? What was her stepbrother doing here, and at such a late hour?

With her curiosity now on high, Sara opened the door.

"Lincoln?" Sara was the first to speak, her questioning tone matching the puzzlement in her eyes. She wasn't used to her step sibling, at least not this one, showing up unannounced on her doorstep and she couldn't help but wonder what prompted this visit.

"Hey Sara, mind if I come in?" Lincoln's only words, but Sara could see a hint of what was left unspoken in his blue eyes. It was at this moment she saw the family resemblance. Something about the seriousness in Lincoln's expression reminded her of Michael.

Pushing this thought aside, Sara pulled the door wide and motioned him in. "Sure, yeah, of course, come in Lincoln." If Linc noted her surprise upon opening the door, he showed no sign of this as he followed her inside the small cottage.

"Would you like some iced tea?"

"Sounds good. Thanks," Lincoln said, but he sounded distracted, or maybe just lost in thought?

Suddenly feeling nervous, wanting to know what this visit was about and yet at the same time grateful for the opportunity to stall for time, Sara moved towards the kitchen. She was pouring the first glass of iced tea from the tall pitcher, when Lincoln, having decided to follow, entered the kitchen.

Sara silently handed him the glass, forcing her hands to stay steady, so as to not betray her shaky thoughts.

"Thanks," a small smile followed as Linc accepted the cold drink and then stood holding the frosty glass in silence. He seemed almost reluctant to start, to speak his mind. This act alone convinced Sara, as if she needed any further proof, that there was a specific reason behind this impromptu visit. But what was the reason? And then what should have been the obvious right away hit her. Michael… He must have confided in his older brother. It all fit, Linc's distraction, his reluctance to begin speaking the words that would be awkward for anyone. With this knowledge Sara's nervousness kicked up a notch. How much did Lincoln know?

Sara cleared her throat, the soft sound was loud in the quiet room, and then she was forcing the words out, "Was there something in particular you wanted to talk to me about, Linc?"

"Yeah…Sara…there was…there is. It's Michael. I wanted to talk to you about my brother."

"What about him?" her defenses went up in an instant with this confirmation of her suspicions.

Lincoln didn't say anything at first, he just made his way to the table where he pulled out a chair and motioned that she should have a seat.

Now it was Sara who showed reluctance as a few beats of silence filled the kitchen. And then she was making her way to the chair across from her now seated step sibling.

When she was seated, she lifted her eyes from her own glass of untouched tea. Lincoln seemed to be gathering his thoughts, his eyes on the tall glass in front of him. And then he looked up meeting her eyes.

"He struggled with this, you know, coming back here? Michael thought it would disrupt your life…mess things up for you." Lincoln's eyes were a serious mix of gentle honesty that did little to assuage the anger that had built in Sara over the years, the anger that needed little nudging now to spring forth overriding her nervousness, any sense of invaded privacy at what, at how much Lincoln might know of her life.

"Michael struggled?" A terse laugh flew from Sara's lips and then she continued with a shake of her auburn head, "I hardly think he struggled, Linc. Yeah, Oxford…that must have been tough. The parties, the whole college experience. It must have been a real chore."

"It wasn't like that for him, Sara…"

Sara cut him off. "Being sixteen, pregnant and alone, that's a struggle, Lincoln." Her eyes were blazing now. "A free ride at an Ivy League school hardly compares, now does it?" Sara's eyes bore into her step brother, demandingly.

"Michael didn't know about David, Sara. And if he had known, he would have come back. I think you know that now. Maybe deep down you knew it even then."

Feelings that Sara usually repressed out of self preservation flew to the surface, "Maybe I knew it back then? I knew nothing back then!" as if realizing her voice had risen, Sara spoke her next words more softly, "What I thought I knew back then? I was sixteen Lincoln…what did I know about anything? True love, forbidden love…All I knew was that I loved him…And that I had lost him...And now…Now I've made so many mistakes in my life," Sara was shaking her head again, "So if you're here to ask me to make another one…"

She was rising from her seat when Lincoln's next words halted all movement, freezing Sara in an almost comical position, not standing, but not quite sitting either, her palms nearly flat on the table top, frozen fingers arched, digging into the wooden surface as if seeking purchase, or maybe support.

"He's alone too Sara…He's always been alone…There was never anybody else for Michael. Not at Oxford, not in Chicago…Just you. It was always you. He loves you…Always has, always will," spoken gently but with such matter of fact conviction.

Sara sank back into her chair, her expression one of stunned surprise as she processed this new information. When a few beats had passed and she still hadn't spoken, "He hasn't been with anyone since you, Sara. You affected him so deeply…It's like you're a part of him. He took that everywhere. He never let you go."

These words, Lincoln's words, could they be true? Sara's heart felt in danger of shattering all over again as the tears filled her eyes, the fissures she had sutured shut with time and avoidance of thought threatening to tear free.

"I need you to go now, Lincoln." Sara's voice sounded pained even to herself, but she didn't look up to see the expression on her stepbrother's face. She barely took notice of the scraping of the chair on the tile floor.

It was quite some time before Sara lifted her eyes, breaking her statue like pose; to find that Lincoln had complied with her wishes…She was alone.