Addicts – A Prison Break Fan Fiction
Author's Note: If you're reading this then "Hi", this is my first Prison Break fanfic – an imagined scene between Michael and Sara which takes place around the middle of series 4. I've been re-watching the series again after a while and felt inspired to write a piece on these two, I just love their chemistry/dynamic. Hope you like it. Reviews are very much welcomed. Thanks.
As he entered the warehouse, Michael saw her sitting there at the table, completely still, her chin resting upon clasped hands. Drowning in an ocean of thought so deep, she didn't turn around as he approached, oblivious to the sound of his nearing, steady footsteps.
Barely a foot away from her now, he stopped suddenly, his attention captured by what he was now seeing on the table in front of her. Namely three vials of morphine sulphate, lined up neatly in a row. One without a lid, containing less liquid than the other two. A needle, freed from the protective packaging which lay discarded alongside it. Still full. She must have taken them from the ambulance.
"Sara." His voice was tentative.
She was swimming up to the surface now, the velvety tone of her name on his lips pulling her up from the depths of the ocean she had come to find herself in so that she could take a breath…and she was at the surface now. She blinked, momentarily wondering how long her eyes had been wide open, staring at the paraphernalia on the table.
"I didn't take anything." She said simply.
"I know." Michael replied, placing his hand gently on her shoulder.
She closed her eyes briefly, bringing her own hand across her body and placing it over his, holding it there against her shoulder. How was it, she mused, that despite this existence of living life precariously should she put it, that his touch alone could melt all of that away and have her feel like she was in the safest place in the world and not in some grotty warehouse. Not on the run from gun- wielding Company. Not contemplating injecting that morphine into her arm just to forget, if only for a while.
"But… you thought about it." He added, pulling the chair next to her out from beneath the table and lowering himself onto it. It was more of a statement than a question.
She released her hand, setting his free as she raked her hair back off her face. She turned to look at him and nodded regretfully. "I guess there's a part of me that will never really go away." She breathed shakily, 'Hi, my name is Sara and I'm an addict." She added animatedly, her head bouncing from side to side as if it were the millionth time that she'd uttered that sentence. She laughed breathily as the tension she had been holding dissipated a little. The corners of Michael's lips edged upwards into a small smile. To see her make light of a serious situation went a long way to relieve his initial concern for her.
She shook her head, inwardly chastising herself for allowing herself to even think about it as she released the liquid from the syringe back into the open vial, found its lid and began to screw it back on.
"Can I ask what stopped you?"
Sara paused, the now sealed vial in her hand, her thumb running backward and forwards over the label as she contemplated. She knew exactly the answer to his question, for there was now a much more desirable drug in her life, one which gave her a hit far greater than any syringe full of morphine ever could. That drug being Michael Scofield.
She set the vial onto the table, back in line with the two that remained unopened. "I uh… I guess you could say I've had a taste of something better."
Michael's eyes narrowed slightly, although he was sure he had a good idea what it was that she was insinuating.
"What's that?" He asked.
She turned her head towards him, her eyes were dipped at first, and then they found his. He searched her face, her expression serious yet vulnerable at the same time and there was no need for her to elaborate.
He swallowed hard; he could almost hear the gushing of blood coursing ferociously through his veins. This had never been part of the plan. The plan was to charm the good lady doctor to ultimately gain access to the infirmary, the plan was never to…fall…for the good lady doctor. And now…now there was no plan he could ever make that didn't include her in it and that thrilled and terrified him in equal measure. He felt as though he were standing on the edge, waiting for a tidal wave to wash over him.
He found himself edging closer to her, their eyes never leaving each other. With his finger, he carefully tucked the stray strand of auburn hair that had fallen over one eye behind Sara's ear. She leaned into his palm, closing her eyes as he stroked the soft, smooth skin of her cheek, and then he was cradling her face in both palms as he captured her mouth with his. She reciprocated his kiss, taking his face in the palm of her hands and exploring every inch of his mouth with hers, only stopping when they both needed to come up for air, their breathing ragged and wanting.
Michael pressed his forehead against hers, "I guess that makes us both addicts." He said, before his mouth found hers again.