Disclaimer: Prison Break doesn't belong to me but it is a lot of fun to take the characters out for a spin.
Not able to get there myself I'm comforted by the regular rhythm of his breathing, lying next to me and clearly sound asleep, I feel confident of not waking him when I slip out of the room to get a cool drink.
As I open the door slowly, having quickly learned to always be on guard, I stop at mere inches when I catch a glimpse of light in the room beyond.
Understanding more with each passing day the danger that can be around any corner and certain the room was completely dark when we went into the bedroom just over an hour ago. I freeze where I stand.
" Just me."
His voice is soft but rough as if, even though I've never see him with one,
he had been sitting there for hours smoking cigarettes one after the other
in worry until his throat was raw. " It's okay, Sara, it's just me."
I move through the door quickly, looking back to be sure the squeaky hinge hasn't disturbed Michael to see him laying there shirtless on his stomach, his face buried in the pillows, as I pull the door closed gently behind me.
He's sitting across the room at the kitchen table, a small light mounted
under the cabinets, fills the tiny room with enough light for me to see.
Instead of chain smoking this man, who never stops surprising me,
has been busy with the much more mundane and oddly charming task of bingeing
on double stuf Oreos and milk.
As I near the table he gets up moving to the small wire dish-drainer perched on the edge of the tiny steel sink and searches the contents until he pulls out a second mug holding it out and tipping it temptingly in my direction. " I couldn't sleep... Join me?"
I take the mug, pouring it half full from the carton left sitting on the table next
to the open package of cookies, and take a seat across from him.
" I wondered when someone was gonna open those."
" Just saving them for the right time." He takes a handful, a good six or eight
in his ample hand, deposits them next to his cup and pushes the rest of the
package, easily three quarters empty, making it clear he'd been at this for awhile,
across the table. " Cures what ails ya. The fridge isn't very cold, milk's
kinda warm, but its does the trick just the same."
" Some swear by warm milk as a means to ending sleepless nights."
I don't think anything of it as I say it, understanding that all three of us
are clearly having our own difficulties with sleep, but as I say it
his watching me, amused, with raised eyebrows and a devilish smirk on
his face makes me thinks I've said something I shouldn't have.
" What? Did I say something wrong?"
He stares at me a moment tilting his head to the left a bit while massaging the back of his neck in thought. " Warm milk can help but there's only one sure fire way I can think of to be certain a grown man will sleep like a baby..."
He looks up, over to me, the smirk on his face becoming a wide amused grin
made complete by his having to bite down on his lower lip to keep from laughing.
" I take it he's sound asleep, tonight?"
Thankful for the faint light hiding the blush of embarrassment on my cheeks I look down not able to meet his eye and mumble my response. " He was sleeping when I left him."
" I'll bet ... from what I heard he'll probably be asleep a couple days"
With that he gives up on holding back and begins laughing quietly but heartily
at my expense.
While my first thought is to crawl under the table, the sound of his laughter, part of that rough charm of his that I've come to find comforting, I instead look up and meet his eye. " Are you enjoying this?"
The laughter stops but his smile doesn't fade. " Sorry, I know I shouldn't be teasing you..."
He stops talking looking down at the mug, the disappointed frown on his face making him look more like a boy that a hardened criminal, as the cookie between his fingers left soaking just a little too long breaks away and drifts to the bottom of the clear cup. " It shouldn't be like this. I SHOULD be enjoying this ... be teasing him mercilessly ever opportunity I get and enjoying every minute of it. "
With the sunken Oreo long forgotten he takes another from the stack, looking me in the eye, his expression serious and sad, as he speaks. " Michael means the world to me. You clearly mean a lot to him. I know the timing is crap but you're good for him so, yeah, I guess I am enjoying this."
The weight of his words washes away the lighthearted air between the two of us plunging us both into an uncomfortable silence.
I feel like I should say something.
There are so many things I could say.
Things I want to say.
But in the end I say nothing.
I try to tell myself 'how can I say to him, something I haven't even admitted to Michael...'
'...or to myself.'
But it's all just an excuse.
The truth is, that saying it out loud, acknowledging how I feel, knowing I may lose him for good at any moment takes more strength than I have.
I try to look away but the look in his eyes captures my attention and holds me.
Expecting to see disappointment on his face at what I can't say, or worse his believing I don't feel in the first place, all I see is kindness and understanding as he changes the subject with ease allowing me off this particular hook. " He told you what happened?"
Grateful for the easy out but apprehensive about launching into my second
confession of the night making comfort food increasingly appealing, I reach out
dragging the nearly empty package to me by the torn wrapper.
" He didn't have to tell me. I was awake, behind the door. I heard it all
for myself"
Relieved to have the truth of what happened that night out in the open, for all of us. I sit silently watching him, wondering what he must think, twisting the cookie in my hand, not entirely realizing I'm doing it, to get at the cream filling hidden inside.
" You knew what happened all along... You told him you knew"
I nod my response unwilling to speak, feeling uncomfortable and on edge seeing
the odd look on his face. Watching me intently he shakes his head as speaks.
" That's just wrong, Sara."
Looking at his face, feeling guilty for keeping quiet and surprised to find at some point along the way this man, what he thinks of me, has become almost as important to me as Michael. " I know. I should have said something sooner but..."
Continuing to shake his head, he cuts me off.
" No! I'm glad you heard. I'd rather he not relive that night. I would have
told you myself, but he wouldn't allow it... "
He smiles as he picks up the last cookie from the now fully depleted stack next to his mug holding out for me to see, smiling, before dipping it into the milk. " I meant the way you're eating that cookie is ' just wrong!'.
Sitting there watching him, neither one of us saying a word, my mind searching for a way to ask him what will happen, to hear him promise everything will be okay, I feel tears of worry and fear welling up in my eyes to the point I have to look away.
Realizing I can't ask him for something he needs to hear as much if not more than I do - something he can't possibly promise to me or himself, I look up to see much the same look, save the tears, written all over his broad face. " We need be on the road tomorrow afternoon at the latest."
He smiles at me as he lifts the mug in the air, offering up a silent toast, draining away the remaining milk, cookie and all, before planting it firmly on the table with a satisfied and oddly confident grin. " I want to make damn sure we are where we need to be ahead time. Stay ahead of him. Be ready for him..."
He stands up snatching the mug off the table while pushing the chair in with his hip. " We all need our sleep, tonight."
He walks slowly around the table stopping to pick up my cup, holding both easily in the palm of one hand. " You should get some rest."
As he turns to leave, heading toward the sink, he stops, still facing away, and reaches back placing his strong hand on my shoulder squeezing gently and reassuringly as he speaks. " We're going to get them both back ... safely"
TBC...