A/N: Thanks for sticking with me for this story :D Always love to hear from you all. Happy reading!
XXX
Dinner ended without incident and they all got up. Michael rode back with Patrick and Sara, Mahone in the passenger seat this time and Sara with Michael in the back.
He stayed quiet, not saying anything, but that was okay with her. She just rested her hand on his knee and let him think his own thoughts.
She really needed to talk to Patrick. He saw something- something in the way Christina reacted. Did he know how to wake Michael up? The anticipation was killing her, but she willed herself to stay calm and patient, watching the trees whiz by as they made their way back.
Patrick pulled into the parking lot of Michael's apartment. Sara got up and out of the car, walking towards the driver's window. Patrick rolled it down.
"Can we talk?" she asked him in a hushed tone, glancing behind as Michael got out.
"Tomorrow."
Her face fell.
"I need time to think, but I promise- tomorrow morning. First thing."
"Ok. Where should I meet you?" she could feel Michael watching her now.
"Just come over like normal."
"Should I bring Michael? He's off work tomorrow."
He nodded, "Yea, that'll be great."
"Okay. Thanks again, Patrick."
He nodded to her and then to Michael before driving off.
"What was that about?" Michael asked as they fell into step with each other, heading towards his building.
"Uh," she hesitated, "he just has another idea for how to help you, but he wants to think on it. We can head over in the morning first thing."
Softly, "What kind of idea?"
Shaking her head, "I don't know."
She had an idea; she knew it had something to do with the shoulder touching but didn't feel she knew enough to bother sharing it. And he'd forget in the morning anyways. She hated that that was becoming a factor in what she told him, but it did feel a bit useless, going through the effort of explaining something to him, knowing that come morning it would all be gone anyways.
He stuck the key in the door and they went inside.
He paused inside the doorway, "Can I ask you something?"
She took her suit jacket off, "Anything."
He paused, "Did I…did I used to," his voice trailed off, like he didn't know how to phrase it.
"What?" she prompted, meeting his eyes.
He shook his head, "This probably won't make any sense."
"I don't care," she was curious now.
"Okay, I just – did something in my past have to do with diabetes? Insulin shots? Anything like that?"
Her chest constricted.
"Yes," she replied, and he looked genuinely surprised.
"Really?" he looked confused, "But how? I'm not a diabetic now."
She grinned, "You never were, but you pretended to be."
His eyes narrowed, full of confusion, "Why would I do that?"
A laugh, "You needed to be in the infirmary more often – part of your escape plan."
"Huh," he considered this.
"What made you think of that?" she wondered aloud.
He shook his head, "A guy at work is diabetic; he mentioned not feeling well and needing to check his glucose…I don't know. I had a vision of you giving me a shot…but it felt more like a dream than a memory. I honestly couldn't tell if it was real or not, which is why I asked."
Her memory scrambled backwards, trying to remember if she'd told him about the insulin shots at any point, or mentioned diabetes in any capacity. If she did, he could've mentioned it to himself in the videos, which as far as she was concerned, makes his "memory" not exactly real. Not coming straight from his own mind.
She didn't remember telling him.
"Do you remember anything else?"
He looked down, "No. It was just a blurb really, a millisecond. A flash of an image."
"Of me poking you in the arm?"
"Yup."
"Not the best lasting impression of me in your mind, but I'll take it," she teased.
He smiled.
XXX
Sara woke up at five and couldn't go back to sleep; the anticipation was too much. The moment she was conscious her heart started thudding loudly in her chest, a buzzing feeling in the pit of her stomach. Would she get Michael back today? What state would he be in? Would he remember anything since the cabin? Hypnosis and drugs and brain surgery were a lot of factors; she had no idea how he would be even if Patrick was able to break the trance.
The aftermath was another issue, one that she hadn't even allowed herself to consider until now.
She felt too warm all of a sudden and kicked her leg out from the sheets, staring at the fan above the bed, circling round and round.
Christina wouldn't be happy if Michael was no longer under her spell, and the General? She took a moment to consider his response. He needed Christina to run the Scylla project. Christina demanded Michael as her partner. What would she do if that deal was broken? Take Scylla for herself and run? Find another partner to help her out? If she bailed, the General would do anything at all to get Michael back. She tried to imagine what he could do that was worse than brain-washing and came up with a few unsavory options.
This train of thought wasn't helping her nerves.
If Michael got his memory back today, then what? They couldn't just up and leave, go back to Chicago.
She felt Michael stir next to her, waking up slightly. She closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep. That was a habit for her now- allowing him the space to acknowledge her presence, to watch his videos, to come to terms with reality.
She heard him get in the shower; it was still early, but he must have been done sleeping too. She sighed and sat up, figuring she could go make some coffee and wait for him to come out of the bathroom. She pulled on a pair of soft shorts, adding them to the camisole she was wearing and padded barefoot into the kitchen, made some coffee and poured herself a mug, taking it over to the sliding glass door and staring out.
The sun was barely starting to brighten the sky- a peaceful quiet. Her mind was finally blank; after however long lying awake in bed and worrying, she found stillness. Today might be a great day. When they get back in a few hours, she could have Michael back. For now, she didn't let her mind explore the alternatives.
She heard shuffling behind her and a greeting, "Morning."
She turned, "Morning."
He seemed a bit uncertain, which she was used to by now in the mornings. It's like every morning he was staying over at someone else's house for the first time – even if you were friends, there might be a little uneasiness, a bit uncertainty of how to interact doing normal domestic things.
"I made extra," she held up her mug.
He exhaled, "Thanks," and poured some for himself, slowly walking over to her. He kept a respectful distance, "How are you?"
She pondered, "Okay I think," she reached up, resting her hand between his shoulder blades. He only flinched a little. She'd learned that the sooner she acted normal around him, particularly with touching, the faster he accepted that they were in fact together.
"How are you?" she asked, "have any questions?"
He sipped his coffee, "A lot, but none that matter."
"What do you mean?"
He smirked, "My mind is a strange place these days, but I know a few things for certain. Things that I tell myself in every video."
"Yea?"
He nodded, "I trust you."
Her heart fluttered.
"And there are people trying to help me," he shrugged, "that's all that matters right now. Everything else…it gets to be too much, so I try not to think about it."
She rubbed her hand back and forth on his back, "Well, we might be able to fix everything today."
He tilted his head, "Really?"
Nodding, "We're heading over to meet a few people today, and they think they have a solution."
"When?"
"Uh," she grabbed her phone and texted Patrick, "ok, I just asked them, we'll see when-"
Her phone buzzed, "He said any time is fine."
She looked to Michael for his response, but his eyes were a bit dazed, focused on something in the distance.
"Michael?"
She saw something change; felt it in the air around them. His eyes rolled back, and he started to sway.
"Michael!" she rushed over and broke his fall as best she could, preventing his head from hitting the ground. He started to seize, his body stiff. She dialed 911.
X
Lincoln, Patrick, and Mahone ran through the E.R. doors, finding Sara waiting there.
Lincoln, "Where is he?"
She answered, "They just took him back. He's stable, but they're giving him fluids."
"What the hell happened?" Mahone asked.
"I don't know…I don't know," she bit out through frazzled nerves, "we were just talking and he…he got really quiet and then his eyes went back, and he fell."
"Any idea why?"
She shrugged, not having allowed herself to go into doctor mode yet, "My guess is the Lorazepam. God knows how much they've been giving him. It's rare, but it can cause seizures."
Lincoln, "You don't think the tumor is back, do you?"
Shaking her head, "No, I don't think so, but given his history, I'm sure they'll do a scan to be sure."
"It's gonna be okay," Patrick offered in his soothing tone, a light touch on her arm, prompting her to meet his eyes, "he's stable, right? This is the best place for him."
She nodded, knowing that he was right, but unable to get her gut to fully believe it.
XXX
Michael blinked his eyes open; bright lights and beeping machines entered his consciousness. Something was on his arm, he realized, feeling it pulling on his skin. He raised it like a zombie, not bending his elbow, and saw an I.V. stuck in his arm, taped down. His arm flopped back down- the energy required to keep it up was more than he had at the moment.
His head hurt. The room wasn't spinning but it certainly wasn't steady either. After a moment of struggling for clarity he felt incredibly alone; confused and alone. He turned his head to one side and saw the call button. He used all his willpower to push it.
A nurse came in, young and blonde.
"What happened?"
Patiently, "You collapsed, and you had a seizure, but you're stable now," she came closer to his bed, "you're gonna be alright."
"Why?" he asked.
"Why, what?"
"Why did I have a seizure?"
"They're running some tests now, hopefully soon we'll have an answer."
He stared blankly at the wall, trying to process what she'd told him.
"You've got a few people out there waiting to see you. Want me to send them in?"
His eyes narrowed, "Who?"
She looked down at her clipboard, "Sara, the woman who brought you in, and it says here your brother and a few friends."
"Sara?" he questioned, the name sounding foreign. Who was Sara?
"Mhmm," the nurse nodded, not realizing that he was lost, "I'll send them in. They've been anxious to see you."
"Ok…" he trailed off as the nurse left, his heart thudding a bit louder.
The door burst open again and four people appeared. Lincoln was the only one he recognized.
The woman rushed to the chair next to his bed, grabbing his hand, "Hey, are you okay? How're you feeling?" she asked. He tried to place her; searched every dark corner of his mind for a sliver of recognition but found none. She was concerned for him, that much was clear, but why? He must've stayed silent for too long. He looked down, unsure of what to say, and when he looked up again and into her eyes, he saw the shift from concern to fear. Dread. Like someone witnessing their worst nightmare.
"No," she whispered, "no, not this."
"What?" the taller man next to Lincoln asked.
"Michael, do you know who I am?" she asked.
I mean, obviously you're Sara, he thought, but knew that the honest answer was "no."
"No, I don't recognize you."
Her face fell, and she turned back, looking towards the other man, the one wearing a three piece suit.
She whispered, "This has never happened before, it's only been after he sleeps. He wasn't out for that long this time."
The man tapped his sealed lips, lowering his head in thought before speaking back in a hushed tone, "It's possible that the seizure had the same effect as sleep…he wasn't out as long but seizures are pretty intense."
The man looked to Michael now, "Do you know where you work?"
"Where I work?" he parroted back in confusion.
"Yes," he confirmed, "do you know what your job is?"
"I work for the Company. We've been working on the Scylla project."
He saw the briefest flash of relief on everyone's face.
The man looked towards Sara again, "Looks like the same reset as always."
"His cell phone is at home," she whispered, "all the photos, the videos…"
Lincoln chimed in, "It'll be alright. He won't remember as fast right now, but he will remember again. I can always go back to your place and get everything he needs."
Sara, "Thank you. Just his phone and…and the picture from Panama. That's the one that seems to work the best anyways."
Lincoln nodded.
XXX
Sara thanked Lincoln when he returned in the early afternoon and continued her bedside vigil. Michael was asleep, and she had no idea if that would reset his mind again, or what. He may blink open his eyes and she'd be a total stranger again.
She was almost getting used to it.
For some reason though, the fact that the seizure wiped his memory away was a surprise. It was brief. And it wasn't REM sleep – she'd always assumed that something about a full sleep cycle was what caused the reset, but apparently that wasn't true.
In any case, she took his phone and opened it, finding several messages from Christina. She saw them without intending to, but they were work related anyways. She and Michael never hid phones from each other before, so she knew he wouldn't mind.
She considered texting Christina back- telling her that it was Sara, that she had his phone, and that he'd probably be out of work for a few days while he recovered.
She felt ambitious and called her instead.
Christina answered, "Michael, finally -I'm sorry to bug you on your day off but-"
"-this is Sara, actually," she cut her off.
"Oh?"
"Yea, uh, Michael is in the hospital."
With concern, "What happened? Is he alright?"
She bit back her tongue. Christina was behind all of this, but she had to keep it friendly, "He's stable, but he collapsed. And had a seizure."
She could practically hear the wheels turning. Softer now, "Is he going to be alright?"
"I sure hope so," she replied with a bit more venom than she intended, but she was at her wits end. How could this woman act like everything was normal? Smile at her across the table at dinner the night before, work with Michael every day, all while drugging him. Brain-washing him. She was his mother.
She could feel her blood starting to boil and knew it was time to end the conversation before it got ugly, "I'll update you when I know more. For now, just know that he might be off work for a while."
"Of course."
Sara hung up.
XXX
"What?" Lincoln answered his cell.
Krantz, "I thought we had a deal. You stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours."
"We haven't done anything."
"Patrick Jane?" he questioned, "he didn't tell you about our little conversation at Company headquarters?"
Lincoln didn't reply.
"I know what you're up to- trying to reverse all the work we've done to get Michael working for us. Even bringing him to the hospital makes him a liability-"
"-he had a seizure!" he spat back, "what were we supposed to do?"
"Your interference needs to stop. Otherwise there will be consequences for all of you. Sara. Mahone. Gretchen. Even Jane if he doesn't stand down."
Lincoln rubbed his head, sick of dealing with his shit. Sick of Krantz having all the power, "Bring it," he challenged.
Incredulous, "I beg your pardon?"
"I'm getting my brother back. He can decide for himself if he wants to keep working for you when he remembers who he really is."