Disclaimer: I don't own the series 'Prison Break' or the original characters. All I own is my imagination and the plot.

A/N: I'm not a familiar face on this section of the site, in fact, I'm a new face, though if inspiration strikes, I'd like to show my face around here more often. I have read a few Michael/Sara stories and decided to try my hand at one, so if the characters are not entirely in character and the dialogue doesn't fit in some way, just keep in mind that this is my first Prison Break centered one piece.


In the Dark

''Even I have my moments in the dark.''

Dr. Tancredi was the first to round the corner, Michael so close behind her that he unpreventably ran into her when she, without warning, halted. He felt her back straighten against his chest and saw her head lift itself up, as if invisible strings had been attached. His eyes snapped to take in the sight before them, knowing the time he would waste if he focused on her too much. Girls had always been able to make him forget and to make him worry about them too much once he had gotten too close, crossing his own lines. He was scared for Sara and for what would happen to her if the three inmates got their hands on her. He wouldn't be able to keep all three of them from her. He would be unable to keep her safe; he wasn't a good enough fighter to do so, though he would fight for her if it came to that. His eyes slipped down to the woman pressed against him, knowing that her physical reactions to her fear would eventually take their toll on him; she stood too close to him.

''Michael,'' she called out to him, not knowing what to do; running would only get them so far.

''Come on,'' was his quick demand, already starting to back up while she stayed put and let herself be terrified by the disrespectful remarks and lewd looks the three men were throwing at her as they began to move in on her. Her hands started to shake with panic as she went over all the worst case scenarios in her head. She was a strong woman, used to a lot, especially from the many men that were locked up in the facility and she came in contact with daily, but she had never thought that they would come after her once they got the chance to. She treated them well, not as if they were criminals, but like human beings. She was disappointed in them and by herself for having as much faith in them as she had.

The lines of his face sharpened as his emotions grew even stronger. He was angry, angry at her for being so good of a believer and angry at himself for having a weakness for someone who was so good. He had never been the type to fall for the ones wearing the rose-tinted glasses or for the ones who were so soft of heart that it made him feel good about himself. His fingers fastened around Sara's wrist and he pulled her with him.

They went down the hallway behind them and twisted and turned around its corners, hoping to get away, though Michael knew that it were mere seconds that separated them. He scanned the two walls before them, immediately seeing the door, and without warning, led the two of them towards it, opening it with one hand while moving his other from around her wrist to the curve of Sara's lower back. He gently pushed her into the darkness before them and followed, closing the door behind him without making a sound.

His back remained pressed against the closed door, so he could listen for the footsteps he was anticipating. Meanwhile, his eyes were on Sara who had turned to face him, her back against the wall across from him. He heard her struggle for breath in her distressed state. Strands of hair hung in front of her eyes and stuck to her face, though she started brushing them aside, her hands still shaking.

''You okay?'' he asked while continuing to observe her. He liked to watch people, the shifts in their behavior and the slight changes in their facial expression, often all controlled by one single emotion. He'd always thought that anger said the most about someone, revealed what was really there, though fear looked better on her; it allowed him a closer look at her, showing a side that he had been waiting to see: the side that trusted him. She was safe with him and somewhere she knew it; he had gotten her out, taking her from a bad situation to one that she felt a little better in, so she nodded.

But before she could let the words slip out, he had the tips of his fingers already pressed against her lips. ''Shhh,'' he told her, his gaze cool as it came down on her face. His other hand lightly took a hold of her elbow while her hands gripped the fabric of his shirt at his abdomen, hearing the footsteps approach from the other side of the door. His breathing was slow and steady while hers came out nervously. He felt her lower lip tremble and he also felt the tremor go through the rest of her body. When the footsteps had passed the door, she turned her head to the side, his fingers dropping from her face, and let out a shaky breath.

''The coast is clear,'' Michael said, starting to move away from her, though she stopped him by bringing him back towards her direction with a determined pull. ''We can't,'' she decided for him, something he hated, though he took it from her because of the way her eyes searched for his in the dark. ''They're sharpshooters on the roof and they'll be bringing in people soon enough. They'll shoot to kill, Michael, all of them,'' she made clear to him. ''So, we just have to wait, okay? At least until they gain back some of the control in the A-wing.''

''How do you know all of this?''

''Because I know my father,'' Sara answered with a sigh. ''He probably knows by now that I'm inside and he'll do anything to get me out alive. Anything, Michael,'' she emphasized. ''He never does anything by the book and killing a few inmates won't keep him up at night, trust me.''

Michael half smiled; he liked to, trust her, but it was unknown territory to him. He'd never had dependable people in his life before, not even his own brother. He brought his free hand up to her elbow, a tender action. ''I have to get back to my cell. If they find me with you...''

''I'll cover for you, I'll make sure that nothing happens to you.''

''You'd do that?''

She tilted her head a little to the side. ''It's the least I can do.''

He made his decision in the split of the following second and nodded. ''Okay.'' He let go of both of her arms and he felt her fingers lift themselves from him. He backed away from her and slid down the door into a sitting position, a subtle invitation for her to do the same. She did, only her position wasn't as open as his; while he stretched his legs out before him, she kept them as close to her chest as she could, her arms loose at her sides while his lay in his lap. ''I'm glad it was you,'' she stated honestly. ''If it was anybody else...''

''It wasn't,'' he said, not giving her a chance to ponder the things that hadn't happened anyway. ''You're okay.''

Sara nodded. ''Yeah, I'm okay.'' She looked at him through her lashes. ''Thank you.''

He didn't answer, though he did have her on his mind. He had had her on his mind for days now. The situation he was in made it hard for him to say, what he thought, were the right things. She didn't mind, she was just glad that he was there to assure her of her invulnerability. She let her eyes roam through the shady space they were in, studying the few objects that were there. She came to the conclusion that they were in some kind of storage space, a small room that would fly beneath most people's radars because of its unimportance. ''This reminds me of high-school,'' she commented out of the blue, not liking when silence went hand in hand with obscurity.

''Never pictured you as that kind of girl,'' was Michael's reply.

''I think every girl was that kind of girl in high-school when they got the chance. I never liked the dark, though.''

He wanted to reply, though his well thought up words were cut off vociferously by gunshots. Although it was something that they had been waiting for, he still flinched while she sought for him for refugee, shrinking into him without knowing what she was doing.

''Guess that's the cavalry coming to rescue you,'' Michael voiced, though there wasn't any bitterness attached to the comment. Somewhere he was relieved; he had never been one to wait for things to happen. ''You're not a fan of guns either, are you, Dr. Tancredi?''

She shook her head and sat up straight again, embarrassed for having shown so much weakness. ''I never have.''

''Why?'' he questioned. ''You ever had a run-in with one?''

Again she shook her head. ''Not personally, no, but from a medical perspective, yes, I've seen what damage it can do to a person.''

''A gun got me in here,'' Michael confessed to her, making sure to keep his eyes focused on something, anything other than her. ''I robbed a bank.''

Sara nodded, but didn't know what to say. It wasn't what she had expected, yet she wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad thing.

''You think differently of me now,'' he pointed out for himself. ''I told you that I was one of the bad guys.''

''Otherwise you wouldn't be here,'' Sara simplified.

''Right,'' he said, for some reason disappointed by her judgment.

She picked up on his sudden mood change and tried to catch his eye. ''You're not a bad person, Michael. Everyone makes mistakes; it's part of human nature, just like I'm scared of things that I'm not familiar with,'' she opened up to him with an example of her own.

''Maybe you should, be scared of those things.'' He looked at her, making her out with ease because of how he had become familiar with the soft and elongated lines of her body, and even though he couldn't see the brown shade of her hair, he knew how it would appear more red than brown out in the sun.

''I'm careful,'' he heard her say.

''Ah, but are you careful enough,'' he countered skillfully, his eyes turning to the ceiling while hers settled on the side of his face. ''What do you mean?''

''I mean,'' he began in a gentle manner, ''what makes you think that the reason I came to your rescue isn't because I wanted you all to myself?'' He felt her shy away from him. It didn't give him the satisfaction he had wanted.

''Why are you being-''

''I'm just keeping you on your toes, Sara,'' he intercepted her question.

''I work in a penitentiary, Michael. All I do is tiptoe around this place. And I'm already intimidated enough by you as it is, so you don't need to say things like that to keep me at a safe distance from you, if that's what you mean.''

''I didn't mean to offend you.''

''Yes, you did,'' she whispered. ''What do you want from me?''

''I don't want anything, Dr. Tancredi.''

''Everybody wants something.''

He threw her a lingering look. ''I'm not like everybody.''

''I never said you were,'' she returned calmly. ''Still, you must be after something.''

''Your trust.''

''Excuse me?''

''You're right,'' Michael said with a nod. ''I am after something: your trust.''

''Do I have yours?''

''Yes.'' A smile meant for only her eyes cracked his tough exterior. ''You have had it the day I saw you.''

She shook her head. ''I'm not impressed by your charm, Michael; it'll only get you so far.''

''Maybe that's far enough,'' he murmured while his eyes intensely locked with hers, wanting to see how far he could fall if he did allow himself to slip. Not that he was going to; it wasn't a part of his plan, meeting someone like her had never been a part of his plan. He turned his head away. ''I think the worst is over.'' The gunshots had died out a few minutes ago.

She nodded. ''Yeah. I should go and see what the damage is.''

Michael hesitated before getting up, a question on the tip of his tongue, though she had already given him the answer. He continued getting up and turned to give her a hand. She reluctantly slipped her fingers between his and he helped her up, holding her hand to his chest when she was upright. He fought the temptation the first time around, had to, but now, with no one else around, he had trouble doing so. She stood so close and her eyes looked to his in doubt. He leaned in to her, the fingers of his free hand gliding through her tousled locks and his lips already so close when her other hand was planted flat against his chest. ''I can't,'' she stopped him. ''Not today.''

He gave her more space, surprising her with another smile when she had expected anything but that. ''Okay,'' he said with a single nod of his head. ''We always have tomorrow anyway.''

In response, she wrapped her other hand around his and placed a swift kiss on his knuckles.

A curtain of hair closed on him when she turned her back to him and her hands searched for the doorknob in the dark. The door opened and the reality of everything overwhelmed the both of them; tomorrow might be certain, but the day after tomorrow and every day after that weren't.


Please review? (: I'm really curious to what you think of my first take on the Michael/Sara pairing and characters and on the episode, Riots, Drills & Devils part2. I might write more Michael/Sara stories in the future because it quickly has become one of my favorite pairings. I know my writing needs improvement, but I am working on that by practicing. Thank you for taking the time to read this. :)