The sound of her heals clicking on the floor went unnoticed amongst the scuffles; machinery noises and shouts blaring in the infirmary. Sara held the piece of paper carefully in her hand as she walked into her consulting room. It was a very busy day today; at least a dozen men had started a brawl at breakfast leaving many wounded. But it wasn't just the Fox River medical wing but Sara who had a lot to deal with this morning. She tossed the paper onto the desk and sat down in her chair. Despite the mess in the next room she wasn't required to help and wasn't sure she could be of much assistance now anyway. Sara read over the empty form again, as she had done many times over the last few days, and the bold black printed headline. She put her elbows on the desk and rested her head in her hands shutting her eyes. She sighed as all the variables to what she was trying to decide came flooding back in the dark. It had come down to questions now.

Was it the right thing to do? Was what she was feeling so wrong that it would have to come to this? Did it mean she was just giving up or backing down? No, she decided, though a flimsy decision, this was the right thing to do. She had to right the erroneous behaviour she had been engaging in.

Her eyes opened and her arms dropped to the table as she searched for a pen. Once she found one she began to fill the form in, trying to ignore her growing misery. Out of all the things in this world that could make her sad, this was one of the one's that would hurt the most. She filled in her name, Sara Tancredi, and then her current prison location, Fox River Penitentiary but paused at the next blank to fill. The question begged the grounds for her request. Eventually she answered it slowly with: personal reasons. Just as she finished the last letter she heard the door open and in marched Katie who began quickly preparing some medical equipment.

"What's going on?" Sara exclaimed dropping the pen in alarm, bracing herself for whatever 'accident' had occurred.

"It's Scofield" she replied filling a syringe, Sara's heart sank.

"I thought I said I didn't want to treat him today. Can you please administer his insulin shot?" she said, unease evident in her voice, as she returned momentarily to the dreaded form before Katie spoke up again

"Well I would but we're too backed up and I can't treat stab wounds right now" she replied fixing Sara with an agitated stare. The beautiful redhead's eyes opened wide and her head snapped around to stare down the hallway through the glass windows surrounding her. It only took a glimpse for her to realize how serious the situation was.

"This is more important than whatever lovers tiff you two have had!"

Ignoring Katie's last comment Sara pushed herself to her feet pulling on some plastic gloves as she moved swiftly across the room to hold open the door. Michael staggered in, accompanied by a concerned looking guard who was holding a standard prison shirt stained with red liquid in one hand and steadying the wounded with his other. Michael looked pale as he gave Sara a pained glance, his blue eyes seeming more sapphire than ever against his wan skin and white singlet. He was clutching his right bicep, blood seeping from between his fingers and streaking down the lower half of his arm.

"Put him over here" Sara ordered pointing to the padded seat where she had treated him so many times before; Katie had adjusted it so it lay flat. The guard tossed the stained shirt to the floor and moved Michael over to the flat chair helping him to lie down. Sara took the morphine filled syringe from Katie and injected it as she began trying to make sense of what injury he had sustained.

"Michael, can you remember what kind of weapon was used to hurt you? What it was made of?" Sara asked and began to move his bloodied hand when his face contorted in agony and his breathing went ragged. Despite her best attempts to suppress her emotions the fact that her badly injured patient was the man she cared most for in this place was beginning to affect her. The look on his face and the snarl at her touch had struck a chord in her and she froze up, like she had never done before. He turned his head to face her, a brief flare of determination sparking in his eyes and he spoke.

"Please…" he croaked moving his hand away from his arm then closing his eyes tightly continuing through gritted teeth "Sara…"

"Ok" she said, hoping to God Katie and the guard did not notice her deep concern for him. She inspected his arm and found there were no broken bones but about three stab wounds, some of the deepest she'd seen.

"Plastic…shank" he spat the words out, waiting anxiously for the morphine to take effect and relive him. She felt a little more at ease knowing it was a plastic shank, there was far less chance of infection. It must've been at least and inch, maybe longer. Katie removed Michael's shoes then moved back over to Sara.

"It's ok Katie, and uh…" Sara begun but realized she didn't know the guard who had brought Michael in. The gentle way he had treated Michael suggested that the he was new to Fox River and had not yet heard too many insults or threats to become coldly biased like so many of the other guards.

"Officer Stuart Radley" he replied politely.

"Katie and Officer Radley I will be fine to treat him by myself" Sara announced as she began to clean Michael's wounds. Radley looked unsure for a moment, wondering if he should leave the doctor alone with Scofield but he had seemed good and co-operative despite his injuries, so he gave the two women a little nod and left. Katie stayed.

"Are you sure you can handle this?" she asked in an unsure voice.

"Yes I'll be fine; you'd better get out there and start on the rest of them" Sara tried to reassure her then motioned to the many beaten men out in the medical ward. Katie gazed at her for a moment harbouring a secret pity in her eyes for Sara then left knowing there was far too much to be done to be wasting time worrying about things she couldn't fix. Michael lay fairly still as she swabbed his wounds and once the morphine had taken effect he could stand to watch her work.

"If you can sleep you should, you've lost a lot of blood" she said tenderly as she began to stich the wounds closed, the bleeding ceasing. He gazed at her steadily for quite some time but she didn't notice, then he spoke.

"How…long till I…will be ok?" he asked, his voice fairly weak.

"So desperate to get away from me already?" she sniggered almost playfully, looking up at him. His mouth parted into a small smile.

"A joke…?" he commented a tinge of colour returning to his face.

"Yes Michael, I can make jokes" she replied her mood lifting to see him smile as she began to dress his injuries. His eyes began to slide closed not leaving her face till they were. He had been lucky; he had managed to get to her before the injury had gotten to bad. She cleaned the blood from the rest of his arm and his left hand. Sara then checked his pulse and looked at him again, he looked so relaxed when he slept, so calm. Many times when he had come to see her he had looks of apprehension and disappointment but now he lay peacefully. She blinked a few times and sighed rubbing her eyes then stood, not really wanting to leave his side, and made her way back to her desk. She pulled out his file and once again began filling in an injury report. So far this seemingly docile man had been beaten, cut, lost a toe and now had been stabbed over the space of only a few months. Some prisoners that had been in prison for years hadn't ended up as wounded as him. At least this time he'd admitted that it was someone attacking him instead of an accident. She gave a disapproving mumble as she signed her name and put the report into his file then pulled the form she had been agonising over toward her, less certain than ever as to wether she should finish it or not. Just as Sara began reading over it again Katie came in.

"Sara there is too many of them, we're gonna need your help" she said urgently. Sara stood again, she had expected this, and no doubt it would be hours before she'd get back not just because of the injuries to attend to but the reports she'd have to fill in. Giving Michael a longing glance, far more preferring to be finishing other patient's files in the silence of her room and his company than dealing with obnoxious invalids, she left the room closing the door behind her.

Once he was sure she was gone Michael sat up slowly gripping the side of the seat with his uninjured hand. The room seemed to move before his eyes despite the fact that he was sitting still. He climbed shakily off the seat, wishing he were asleep, and trudged over to her desk. While being stabbed wasn't part of his original plan it did give him a chance to get a substitute for what he needed. He looked around then saw what he was looking for; a thin tube – or a pen. He picked it up from where it lay on top of a form but as he did he noted the title of the document which read 'Transfer Request Form'. He steadied himself on the desk and read what little else had been filled in that being the current prison location, the reason for wanted departure and the name of the requester: Sara Tancredi. He felt dizzy and sick suddenly and turned from the desk. He braced himself to make it back across the small room to his mock bed. Once he was beside the chair he hid the pen in his shoe then got up onto the flat chair. Michael eased himself onto his back finally allowing himself to fall asleep despite the aching in his chest, sadness at what the simple form on her desk meant.

Five long hours had passed since Sara had left the room and now she returned carrying a coffee. She had spent nearly the entire day on her feet and was seriously regretting wearing heals no matter how small. She carried a couple of folders under her arm and placed them on her desk sitting down, stifling groan of happiness to finally give her feet a rest. She took her shoes off and gave them a quick rub before returning to her work. She sipped her coffee while she opened one of the folders of the new inmates and began checking it for inconsistencies. Once she had finished she signed it and picked up the next but a voice stopped her.

"Sara" a whisper called and she swivelled around on her chair to face Michael who was gazing at her groggily. She felt a twinge of guilt as she realized she must've woken him when she came in.

"Hi, how are you feeling?" she asked leaning back a little on the chair with a kind simper.

"Tired…cold…" he said indifferently.

"I'll get you a blanket" she said walking over to the door "I know it can get a bit cold in here but there are too many men in the medical ward right now"

"Aww" he replied with a drained grin "And I so enjoy their company" She laughed and opened the door but as she was about to walk out he spoke again.

"When I came here…I didn't know who would be treating me…what they would be like" his rough voice spoke slowly and evenly "but I'm glad it was you Sara, because you are such a good, kind person and I feel like…you've always been here for me…this is the truth…I'm glad it was you" he finished, exhausted with the effort not only of speaking so much but having to hide the truth in lies once more. Michael wanted so much to tell her things like this without having to add on fallacies. However if she was going to leave then he wanted her to know how much he'd appreciated her being there for him. She didn't turn around to address him but continued to stare down the hallway not sure how to answer. She turned to look at her desk and the transfer form that seemed to be scolding her for the way her heart had leapt at his simple words. Then she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and finally accepted the fact that that blank form would never be filled. She knew their relationship was wrong and against the regulations and rules that she had sworn to abide by but it seemed with him rules didn't matter so much. Michael made them seem unimportant. She cautioned herself against her thoughts but for now she decided to take no action. She would not run away.

"As long as you're here Michael I'll be here and I'll always treat you if I can" she replied then went and retrieved a blanket. She unfolded the warm cloth and covered him. As she pulled it up around his chest and neck he whispered to her

"Thank you Sara" she thought briefly of reminding him to call her doctor but his sleepy expression told her he'd soon be out again so she simply replied warmly with:

"You're welcome"

A/N: Ok in case any of you didn't notice I'm not a doctor and don't know the correct procedure for treating stab wounds shock, horror, gasp. So if any of you picked up on the fact that the way Sara fixed his arm or the way he was acting or the fact that he miraculously stopped bleeding was wrong, sorry. The only experience/ knowledge I had to go on was procedures I'd seen on TV take into account that I don't watch any medical shows like ER or the real life operations and stuff like that, prison breaks pretty much as doctor-showish as I've ever seen cause those shows give me the creeps and an oral surgery operation I had very, very unhappy experience and totally not my fault, all the same: clean your teeth kids cause trust me you don't want to know. I hope you enjoyed my fluffy feel good /Michael Sara fic and don't forget to leave a review

Luv Seraph