"Why don't you two wait out here for a minute," the nurse asked the officers, "let me talk to her first."

Sara sat on the crinkly paper in the exam room, not much liking being on this end of things. The E.R. was normally her domain; she felt confident and trusted herself to handle anything that might come through the doors. Today, she felt small. Out of sorts. The adrenaline was starting to wane and she felt a bit shaky and tired. Her dangling feet were a pink and swollen, no doubt from having stepped on a thing or two she shouldn't have while she was running. Out of curiosity, she lifted her feet one by one and checked the bottoms of them- they were dirty, but had no cuts and nothing lodged in them. She considered that a win.

The nurse shut the door and came over, pulling up a chair and sitting in front of her with a clipboard, "Alright, let's start with the basics. What's your name?"

"Sara Tancredi."

Nodding, "Okay, and are you from around here?"

"Uh, to be honest I don't even know where I am right now, but no, I'm from Chicago. That guy took me, the one who was here, and I was held in a warehouse...I'm not sure exactly where."

She scribbled more notes, then asked softly, "Can you tell me a little bit about what happened while you were with him? Any injuries you need looked at?"

She shook her head, knowing what she was getting at, "Nothing sexual. I was tasered a few times but otherwise I'm okay," then remembering, "oh, and I fell pretty hard on my shoulder when the other guy threw us in the truck, but it's getting better."

She stopped writing, "Sorry, the other guy? And who's "us"?"

"Right," she realized, needing to explain, "the guy that was after me today had a partner. That partner was the one who abducted me and my friend Veronica from a bar on Friday night."

The nurse's eyes grew slightly wider, the wheels turning, "In a semi-truck?"

Sara's eyes narrowed, "Uh, yea. How did you-"

"-it was on the news this morning," she explained, going over to the computer in the room and doing a quick internet search. Sara glanced over and saw a police sketch online- a near dead-ringer for their captor. Veronica is okay, she realized with a breath of relief, it was the only explanation. She'd made it to the police, obviously worked with a sketch artist- she was okay.

Knowing that her friend was alive and safe had a huge lump in her throat. She swallowed hard, lowering her face to hide the hot tears pricking her eyes. She hadn't allowed herself to think about it- she'd been so focused on her own survival, on being found, that she hadn't even considered Veronica's fate. All along, the many hours she'd spend with Bellick in the car and the warehouse and the hotel room, she'd been hoping for Veronica to make it to the police so that they could come help her. Suddenly, the other possible (and less desirable) outcomes coursed through her mind: Veronica being re-captured and tortured, Veronica being killed, Veronica not making it to safety and dying in the wilderness. It was overwhelming. She knew that Vee was okay now but that didn't stop the tidal wave of premature grief from swelling over her. It's like she was mourning someone who was out of harm's way, mourning the potential outcomes that didn't happen.

Her chest constricted as the nurse looked back over to her, "Is that him?"

Nodding, focusing, "That's him. That's the guy who captured us."

She got out of the chair, "I'll be right back," as she stepped out. Sara heard her mumbling something to the officers outside, no doubt informing them that the story on the news had landed in their emergency department.

Sara stood up, curious, wandering closer to the computer and looking at the man staring back. He looked intimidating, but less so than he had in the flesh. The picture didn't convey the way his tongue darted in and out, the venom behind his eyes, or the malicious tone of his voice. She started skimming the article- they didn't seem to have a name or much information at all about him. She was no detective, but it seemed like it would be an impossible task to find someone with no more than a sketch to go on; they didn't have a license plate number, a name, address…the thought had her feeling a bit hopeless. She wasn't the revenge-seeking type anyways, but she was concerned that he would do this again to someone else, or come back for her and Vee.

She remembered again that he had her wallet and phone, and she swore under her breath. Maybe if she was lucky, they'd find him today and she wouldn't have to start the unpleasant task of getting a new, well, everything.

The mumbling in the hallway grew louder, and she realized that other voices had joined. She heard shuffling, lots of footsteps, and anxious chatter.

The door opened a crack and the nurse poked her head in, "You uh, you've got some visitors?"

Suspiciously, "Who?"

"Sara, it's me," Veronica's voice called through the door.

"Vee?" she asked breathlessly, and the nurse took that as her cue to back away, letting Veronica into the room.

Sara wasn't sure how, but in a second Veronica was in her arms, nearly knocking her over with a hug, "Thank GOD you're ok."

Sara held her tight and sighed, "I could say the same about you; you scared the shit outta me."

"I scared you?" she asked incredulously, pulling back, "I was so afraid I did the wrong thing. God I just left you there-"

"-that was our deal, remember?" Sara released her grip and shrugged, "You were quicker."

"I still wasn't able to help find you," Veronica replied with a childlike stubbornness, "and I'm really sorry for that."

"Don't be," she assured. The last thing she needed was her friend feeling guilty.

"How did you get away?" Vee asked.

"I ran out of the hotel room when I got out of the shower."

Veronica chocked out a laugh, "Just like that, huh?"

She grinned, "Just like that. He wasn't fast enough," then she realized there was no reason for Veronica to know where she was, and what town she was in, "wait. How did you know where to find me?"

"We've been working with the police. They got Bellick and the other guy's picture all over the news. One of the motel clerks from where you were staying remembered seeing Bellick and called it in. When we got there, you were already gone. We figured you'd come to the hospital, so," she shrugged, breathless and relieved, "here we are."

Slowly, brows furrowed, "Who's, "we"? The police?"

Veronica grinned in a sly, conspiring manner that had Sara feeling nervous.

"What?" she asked again, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach.

Veronica headed to the door and opened it, "Come on in, she's okay."

Michael walked in, and Sara's heart did a funny jump. She blinked twice, stunned into silence.

He walked closer, silently. Another man stood behind him, someone she didn't recognize, but her mind barely registered it, too stunned to process anything aside from the man in front of her. Veronica snuck away and shut the door behind her, leaving them alone.

"What're you-?" she breathed out, but was cut off as his arms wrapped around her, holding her flush against him. Hesitantly, (not out of discomfort, but more out of shock) her arms wrapped around his waist. She supposed she had kissed his cheek, so a close, lingering hug wasn't unprecedented- but she was surprised by the weight it seemed to carry. She could practically feel his relief against her, the heave of his chest as he exhaled, the strong hold he had of her; strong, yet gentle, as if she were a precious object he was determined to protect, but not to break. She found herself nestling her cheek against his collarbone, settling in.

He said nothing. She found this comforting, yet started to wonder if he was okay. How long had he known she'd been gone? Did he know what all she'd been through? Part of her wished that he didn't- that she wouldn't be tainted by the trauma, seen only as a damsel in distress. She'd survived, dammit, and didn't want things to change between them. As touching as the knight in shining armor act could be, she just wanted Michael- the Michael she'd met at a bar and had coffee with on a sunny morning.

He sighed again, his fingers coming up to stroke her hair, coming to rest on either side of her face. He'd never been this close, never touched her so…intimately. The silence was unnerving, her heart thudding wildly, waiting, though she couldn't know for what.

A whisper, "Are you okay?"

Her mind was mush, "Fine, yea. I'm okay."

She was better than okay; she couldn't be bothered to feel the lingering pain in her shoulder or the swelling of her feet anymore. The warmth of his hands on her cheeks might as well have been searing her brain, claiming all of her attention.

"Why are you here?" she managed, with a tone of wonder.

His hands fell, sliding down her arms and taking hold of both hands, "Well, I met up with my Lincoln, my brother," he clarified, nodding towards the door concealing the other man she'd seen. She remembered a brother- he'd mentioned one on their coffee date, but was glad to finally have a face, or at least a general build, to link to the name, "he told me he found a girl trapped and was helping her out. It was Veronica. When he mentioned her name, I got a bad feeling, and he said there was someone else that had been with her." He swallowed hard, "He told me that Veronica mentioned your name. I knew it was you."

"And so?" she asked, still not believing that he was there.

He looked confused, "So I came. I had to make sure you were alright."

"But we…" her voice trailed off.

"What?"

She shrugged, "I mean," a nervous laugh, "we barely know each other. I'd hardly expect you to drop everything and what, come save me?"

His eyes met hers with an intensity and clarity she wasn't expecting. He spoke quietly, "I know you well enough to know that I don't want anything bad to happen to you. I know you're capable of saving yourself. I just," he paused to think, "I needed you to be ok, and I couldn't sit around doing nothing. Being at home with you out there somewhere, not knowing what was being done to you…"

"I'm okay," she reassured softly, not knowing what to make of his profession. In the past, the men she had dated weren't so…straightforward. Open. The vulnerability took her by surprise and she was touched by it.

"If you ever want to talk about it…" his voice trailed off.

"I know," she returned, knowing that he truly would be there if she needed him.

He scoffed slightly, amused, "That's what I figured."

Confused, feigning offense, "What?"

"Nothing," he shook his head, "I just pegged you as the type that…I don't know…if something bad happens to you, you just pick yourself up and move on," a shrug, "guess I was right."

She smiled, sarcastic, "Would you rather I dwell on it? Fall into a deep depression?"

"No!" he chuckled, then more serious again, "I just want you to know that if you ever want to talk about it, or if you're having a rough day…I'm here."

"Thank you," she met his eyes, "really."

A silence fell. She didn't want to leave. She felt safe here, inside that tiny room, an oasis away from all her troubles. There would be questions, police work, investigations, the thought of which had her exhausted. All she wanted was to go home and curl up on the couch, maybe grab some food…

"Are you going to be okay tonight?" he asked.

"Sorry?" she brought her mind back to reality.

"Alone," he clarified, "are you going to be okay, being alone tonight?"

A flurry of butterflies took flight in her stomach. She did her best to sound disinterested, unaffected, "Are you suggesting…?"

"Company," he replied quickly, "I'm offering to keep you company tonight. It doesn't have to be more than that. In fact," he lowered his head, shaking it slightly, "I don't think it could be more than that."

"What do you mean?"

"I wouldn't feel right about it if anything else…" he paused, "I don't even know what all you've been though. I know you're strong, but it would still feel like I was taking advantage-"

"-Michael."

He startled at her interruption, "What?"

"I'd like you to stay over."

His expression softened, "You sure?"

Nodding, "I'm sure. You're uh, you're probably right. I shouldn't be alone, not tonight anyways. We might be here a while though- there'll be a lot of questions for me to answer and they still haven't done a physical exam yet. It might be a few hours."

He shrugged, not the least bit put off by the possibility of waiting around for the day, "I'll be here until you're ready to go."

She nodded, then stepped forward again to embrace him, her eyes closing, "Thank you."

XXXXXX

Brad was furious and so was the buyer. Sara had been in that emergency room and he knew it, but he also knew that hanging around just waiting for security to get there would've left him in a world of trouble. Damn her for running so far, he thought as he bumbled back to the hotel. He went up to the room and cleared out, quickly grabbing his stuff and going back to his car. He needed to get out of town. Fast. For two reasons: first, the cops were after him and second, he had a feeling the buyer would be too. They'd made a deal, and he didn't hold up his end. They were supposed to meet- he checked his watch- now, and instead he was peeling out of the parking lot, trying to figure out where the heck to go next.

Any property he owned was off limits. They'd obviously find him there. He couldn't use a credit card and considered that he might need to toss his phone. He was a cop- he knew how these things were handled but being on the other side of things was new territory. He'd never been on the run before, not even close to this level of evasion. Whatever possessed T-bag to take two girls with a brain, he'd never know, and if he was smart, he'd never show his face again. As far as Bellick was concerned, their partnership was over.

His dream of early retirement was fading vast, vanishing in a puff of smoke. Not only could he not afford that lake house he wanted, he couldn't even occupy the property he did own. The thought had him seeing red.

With miles ahead of him and plenty of time to think, he began weighing his options. There were many to consider, though few offered the outcome he wanted. Still, he wouldn't go down without a fight, and that was the theme that kept him going as he hit the highway, willing to do whatever was necessary, no matter the cost.

XXXXXXX

"So, this is awkward," Sara started as she exited the exam room. The physical exam was done and found her to be unharmed aside from a few cuts and bruises. She could've told them that, but let them check the boxes they needed to. It's protocol, she knew the drill.

Michael was waiting in the lobby for her. Veronica had taken Lincoln up on his offer to drive her home- she had a spare key hidden somewhere, which is what made Sara realize that she didn't. She couldn't go home, because she couldn't get in.

Michael perked up as she approached him. He was sitting in one of the chairs by the window, the evening sun casting an orange glow around him as he read one of the newspapers provided by the hospital.

She continued explaining her predicament, "Uh, you can't come over tonight."

His face fell. It was slight, but noticeable.

"I can't go home either," she clarified, "I don't have my keys."

"Oh," he processed this, looking mollified, "well, you can stay with me if you'd like. Just for tonight-"

Shaking her head, "-I can't ask you to do that-"

"-I insist. You need to rest. Tomorrow you can work on getting another key and whatever else you're missing."

It was getting late, she reasoned. The interrogation had taken a while and so did the exam. She was hungry and tired and ready to flop into an actual bed and fall into a deep sleep. The implications of staying at his place had her a bit conflicted though; he'd probably be a gentleman and offer to let her sleep in his bed. He'd take the couch or the floor and she guaranteed that no matter how hard she protested, he'd remain firm in his decision. The other option was her sleeping on the couch- preferable from her point of view- she'd be comfortable, and her presence in his home would be less of a burden. The third option, sharing a bed, had her head spinning. He'd never agree to it anyways…right? He flat out said that he wouldn't feel right about taking advantage…she was too tired for this. Her mind was struggling and she realized that the overthinking was useless. She needed a place to sleep. She didn't have money or keys. She needed help.

"Alright," she agreed, "but on one condition."

Tilting his head, "What's that?"

"We grab dinner on the way. I'm starving."

He smiled, "It's a deal."