1As Sara and Michael entered the run down apartment, she wondered why she had let the situation come to this. Her, frightened, spirit broken and half naked, and him, with the guilt of a hundred manslaughter convicts resting on his shoulders. Sara shivered as they stepped through the door, freezing despite the June weather. She'd wrapped her tattered shirt around herself because, without the buttons scattered around the front step, her breasts were fully exposed save for a thin cotton bra. Michael noticed she was uncomfortable and took action.
"I'll get you something to put on –" he turned his body to head up the stairs on his left.
Sara interrupted him, grabbing his arm. "No- I mean, thank you, I... don't leave me alone, please, Michael." Pleading, she glanced over her shoulder toward the door. "What if he- you know." Her eyes turned down to look at the floor. She couldn't believe herself. This woman- insecure, afraid, depending on someone else- was not her. At least, not a month ago. Or, maybe, not ten minutes ago.
Her shoulders shuddered in a sob, tears stinging her eyes. "Sara..." he said, putting his hands on her shoulders firmly. "He won't hurt you again, I promise. I'll protect you." Michael took her hand and led her into the small, dimly lit living room. They sat softly on an old sectional sofa that came with the apartment. Normally, Sara would have been disgusted with the probably things that'd been done on it, especially in a place like this. Right then, she didn't care.
Their legs rested against each other; she sat facing forward and he was sideways, facing her, attempting to read her face for some sign of emotion.
The only emotion he saw was fear.
Michael took her hand in his. "Sara... are you alright?" She was shaking, and that made him angry.
Her eyes lifted and met his, blinking as if she was returning from some far-off place. This wasn't like the Sara he knew.
And loved.
"I'm fine, I think." She paused. "Thank you Michael, you saved me from... I don't even want to know what." Her head fell into her hands, and Michael brought his palm to her back and rubbed it soothingly. Slowly, Sara regained her composure and control, and began her coping process.
What Sara didn't know was that Michael's jaw was clenched firmly, strongly, holding in more anger than he'd ever felt before. His eyes were dark with wrath and guilt. She brought her head up again, sensing those feelings, and furrowed her brow."Michael," she spoke in her doctor voice, suddenly feeling like a savior rather than a victim. "Look at me."
His eyes moved to hers, and she felt a sudden rush of intensity that seemed to be given off like heat from a fire in his eyes. Sara, taken aback by this strength, studdered. "You, uh... you... this isn't your fault. I came here on my own accord, I followed Linco-" Lincoln. Where had he disappeared to? "Where is Lincoln? Why did you come out there by yourself? You could have gotten yourself killed."
"You were in trouble, Sara. I wasn't even thinking about that." They stared into each other's eyes for a moment. "He's in the shower... I don't think he heard you scream."
As if on cue, they heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the rickety stairs. Lincoln started filling Michael in on the day's happenings as he came down the hallway, his towel still wrapped around his waist.
"Mike, I don't know. You really fucked up, you know? You have to go talk to-" He stepped into the room, looking up. "Sara." Lincoln's face took on a look of confusion and shock. "What are you doing here? How'd you find us?" He stepped closer, taking a better look at her frazzled state. "What happened?"
"I followed you, Lincoln. And I was outside and then..." Sara's voice trailed off, not quite ready to relive the experience. Michael saw her reluctance, and stood, taking the few steps over to Lincoln.
"Can I talk to you in the kitchen?"
"Michael, it-"
"Lincoln." He paused and stared into the eyes of his brother- the infamous Michael Scofield pause-and-stare that could reduce nuns to prostitution if that's what he wanted. "Kitchen."
Easily persuaded, Lincoln turned and moved back down the hallway. Michael turned and gave Sara what he hoped was a comforting look. "I'll be right back... make yourself at... well, this isn't like anyone's home." She nodded. Slowly, he looked toward the floor and glanced back up. Their eyes met and Sara didn't ever want to look away. Even his gaze made her feel safe.
Michael turned quickly and headed up the narrow hall behind Lincoln.
Sara rose and began to inspect the room. Only a small thirteen inch television on a crate and a small coffee table garnished the room aside from the sofa. There was a stack of paper and documents on the coffee table. Not thinking, Sara bent and looked.
What she found was the last thing she expected.
On the table before her lay several detailed drawings of the tattoo that covered much of Michael's body. She heard the two men speaking in hushed tones a few rooms away, and decided it was safe to proceed; she didn't want to be nosy. Sara looked closer, and saw that there were arrows pointing to specific spots, numbers, chemical equations, hallways? Something didn't make sense. It was just a tattoo, not a map. As she inspected the drawings though, it began to look more and more like a guide to something. She'd always wanted to run her hands over Michael's chest, back, and arms, tracing the lines, wondering how that would make him feel. Truthfully, she didn't know how it would make her feel.
And now, what was this? She ruffled through the papers, finding more drawings of other things, a credit card, a chemical formula for corrosion, personal details on other inmates they'd escaped with. Sara's head spun. The tattoos were a map, obviously. But for what? Mind racing, she took mental pictures of this information in case she needed it later.
She was interrupted by the sound of Michael's voice.
"Sara. Don't overreact to this. I can explain."
"Sure you can, Michael," she said coldly. "You always have an explanation, but I don't want an explanation. I want the truth."
He looked at her. "You might want to sit down."