Sara stretched, slow and satisfying, as the morning light shone through the blinds. She'd slept well- didn't remember waking up at all during the night, which was unusual. She wasn't an insomniac, but she always woke up at least a few times, tossing and turning, becoming vaguely aware of her surroundings before giving in to sleep once more.

The bed was vacant next to her, she realized as she finished her stretch and rolled over towards where Michael had been. She let her eyes linger on his side of the bed, eyelids still a bit heavy, her mind a peaceful quiet.

She heard a creak behind her and turned, seeing the door opening quietly and Michael peaking in, a cup of coffee in hand.

"Morning," she untangled herself from the sheets as she rolled over to her other side to face him, wiping a stray piece of hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear.

"Morning," he returned and set the mug down on the bedside table.

"For me?" she asked in disbelief.

"Mhmm," he hummed and knelt down beside the bed, meeting her eyes, "sleep ok?"

"Oh yes," she confirmed, still feeling blissful from a good night's sleep.

"Good," he leaned his forearms on the bed, shifting slightly, "so Lincoln called this morning. Apparently Veronica is going to meet Kellerman and Mahone…" he trailed off, his voice a bit hesitant.

"To give them a piece of her mind, no doubt," Sara nodded as she sat up, leaning her back against the wall and grabbing the warm mug, wrapping her hands around it.

A smirk, "Sounds like it, yea. Anyways, he was just wondering if we wanted to be there. I told him I'd ask you."

She readily agreed, "Yea, I'd like to. I want to know what's going on with everything," she sighed, "as much as I'd like to return to normal and just forget it all…I think closure would be good."

She sipped on the coffee, enjoying the warmth and noting that he prepared the way she liked. Either they took their coffee the same way or he was a hell of a good guesser. Either way was fine with her.

"Hmm," he agreed, then hiked himself up onto the edge of the bed, folding his one leg and letting the other rest on the floor, facing her, "if this man…Bagwell…if he does end up getting off the hook for this," he paused, considering his next words, "are you going to be okay?"

She sighed and considered his question, staring down into the dark liquid before her, "I'll be good 'n pissed," she admitted, shaking her head, "but I won't live in fear, if that's what you're asking. Bellick was the brains," then scoffed.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing, it's just weird referring to him as the smart one. But apparently, it was his operation," she continued on, "so I doubt Bagwell will be operating on his own any time soon."

"True, but I still don't like the idea of him being on the loose."

"Neither do I," she agreed with a shrug, "but he's not the only bad guy out there. There are lots of them, and lots of good ones too. I can't spend my life worrying about it…hiding away. I do what I can to keep myself safe, to be aware of my surroundings," she took another sip, "that's all I can do."

"He grabbed you both," Michael pointed out, seeming a bit distressed, "in the parking lot with cameras, with other people."

Bluntly, "Yup."

"That doesn't scare you?"

She laughed, a bit darker than she intended, "Welcome to life as a woman. If I'm alone, I always look around when I exit a building at night. I carry my car keys and pepper spray in my hand. I walk quickly, and look behind me and all around every few minutes. There's always a threat, and he managed to get us both. We were together, which is supposed to be safer, but it wasn't. He was too fast, and we unprepared. It happens."

He looked a bit taken aback, processing, "I guess I just never thought…"

"-you never thought it would happen to someone you know," she finished for him.

"Yea," he agreed lamely, seeming a bit disheartened.

"Look," she placed a hand on his arm, "I don't wanna dwell on this. I'm just saying…this kind of stuff happens, it's the world we live in. It happened to me, but I survived, and I'd like to move on. I've always been careful and I'll continue to be, but as far as I'm concerned, the threat is no bigger than it was a few weeks ago."

He said nothing, so she decided to ask a question, forcing a response, "What time do we need to leave to meet Linc and Veronica?"

"Uh," he blinked a few times, escaping from his mind and checking his watch, "an hour or so."

"Ok," she started to get up as he did as well. He started heading for the door, but she grabbed his arm, halting his exit.

"Hey," she smiled sweetly as he turned around. She held up the mug, "thanks for this," she moved closer and planted a kiss on his lips, lightening the mood before acknowledging the darkness, "and I know you're worried and I appreciate that. I wish it wasn't like this, but being here with you really does help," she looked down, deciding whether or not to voice a concern that had been weighing on the back of her mind. His arm came gently around her waist, she sank into him and admitted, "I don't want this to be too much for you."

He kissed the top of her head, "It won't be. I just want you to be safe."

It was a simple declaration, a simple request, and one that effectively summarized the demon they were facing. She wanted to be safe, and to feel safe.

"Me too."

XXXXXXX

"A deal? We were not informed about a deal," Veronica accused as they stormed into the police office. Veronica led the charge, her knowledge of the law and fearless personality making her the obvious choice for taking the lead. Not that she'd given them a choice. The second Lincoln had parked the car she was slamming the door and marching inside.

Lincoln was directly behind her- his intent was as moral support, but he could see now that he might be more of a restraint, a hand on her shoulder to gently remind her that punching an officer in the nose wasn't the best idea.

Mahone was sat as his desk when they entered the building, his glasses perched at the end of his nose and a paper in his hand. He glanced up over his glasses at them, seeming intrigued but unconcerned at their presence. He took his glasses off and tossed them on his desk, abandoning the paper in his hand and standing up.

"Why don't we talk in here," he gestured to an interrogation room with a table and chairs. And a soundproof wall.

As the four of them followed him in, Veronica took the seat directly across from him. It was a rectangular table, with Veronica and Mahone at one end. Everyone else filled in the seats beside Veronica.

"He's helping you," Veronica didn't bother with a prelude, "in exchange for what? Immunity?"

"No, a reduced sentence," Mahone replied.

"A reduced sentence," she parroted, though her energy did seem to fizzle a bit, assuaged.

Nodding, "That's right. He's agreed to help us find Mr. Bellick in exchange for knocking a few years off his time served."

Veronica's brows narrowed, "And has he actually helped? Do you have anything tangible?"

"Not yet-"

"-and if he can't help…if his attempts yield no usable evidence-"

"-he'll serve his full sentence."

Veronica hushed for a moment, enough for Michael to ask, "You say he hasn't been able to help yet. What exactly is he doing, then?"

"It's complicated," Mahone admitted, hands folding on the table in front of him, "he tried reaching out to him, but it looks like the phone he'd been using is disconnected."

"Great," Lincoln offered sarcastically, "so what's he doing now?"

Mahone, hesitantly, "Facebook."

Lincoln's eyebrows shot up, "That's it?"

"He's sent messages to both Brad and his mother-"

"His mother?" Veronica asked.

"He lives with her," Mahone answered, "look I know you're anxious to close this case. So are we, but we don't have a lot to go on here. He hasn't used any credit cards lately, his phone is disconnected, we've had men search all the property he owns and he's not there. No one knows him well enough to know where he might go."

"Except his mommy," Veronica retorted sarcastically.

"You really think she'd tell you anything?" Sara asked softly, "I mean, assume you can get ahold of her, would she really rat out her own son?"

"We can't know for sure," Mahone admitted.

"Why not just go to her house?" Sara asked, "you know where she lives. Maybe she'd have an idea where he would go."

"We already tried that. When we sent a unit to search his house she was home and had no idea about any of this. As far as she's concerned, her son is a model citizen and decorated officer."

Michael spoke up, "So why is Bagwell messaging her? If she doesn't know anything…"

"Because she could be lying," he shrugged, "if she did know about his operation, she certainly wouldn't tell us about it. If she would open up to anyone, that person would most likely be Bagwell, right? His partner."

The door to the interrogation room opened and Kellerman popped his head in, "Mrs. Bellick returned a message."

Mahone, "What did it say?"

Kellerman glanced around the table, silently asking if they should be discussing this in private.

"It's fine," he answered, prompting Kellerman to fully enter the room and click the door shut behind him.

"Well," Kellerman sighed and braced his hands on the back of an empty chair, "it seems like she was telling the truth before- she didn't have any idea what he was involved in. When Bagwell contacted her explaining that he worked with Brad, she realized it was all true. That said," he cleared his throat, speaking in a matter of fact tone, "she's horrified at what he's done. She hasn't heard from him, but suggested we check with a cousin of his. They're apparently pretty close and if he was with any family member besides her, it would be him."

"Do we have an address?"

"Yup, apparently he lives in Farmington Missouri. We've got a local unit there checking it out now."

XXXXXX

"Can you drop me off at home?" Sara asked Michael as they left the police station, the morning sun reflecting off her auburn hair that bounced against her shoulders as they walked.

Mahone and Kellerman were awaiting word from the unit in Missouri, so there wasn't much use in sticking around any longer.

Sara had to go back to work tomorrow, and figured she probably needed some groceries and time to clean her apartment a bit before getting back into the swing of things.

"Sure," he agreed as he started the car.

She directed him how to get there as he drove along, having never been to her place before. The route was familiar and yet made her slightly anxious. The neighborhood was the same as it always was; families hanging out in their yards, kids playing, sprinklers ticking away…but as they got closer, a sinking feeling took root in her stomach. She didn't want to be left there alone.

You're fine. She scolded herself as Michael pulled into the driveway. She ignored her thumping heart and unbuckled her seatbelt with sweaty palms. She exhaled a bit louder than intended, her eyes unable to focus on anything as she swung the door open and stepped out. She was ready to make a speedy exit, to thank him and march on inside. Get ahold of herself. Rushing through it seemed like the only option.

It took her a moment to realize that Michael was getting out too, "I'll walk you up," he told her before she could register his movements towards her. She realized that his hand was in hers and they were walking at a comfortable pace towards her door. She squeezed hard, trying to steady her breathing. God she felt ridiculous, her mind a whir, and his hand her only anchor.

"I can stay as long as you need me to," he offered in a calm voice, reading her thoughts as she stuck her key in the door with a trembling hand. There was no pity or sympathy in his voice, and no demand for her to explain herself and what she was feeling. It was an offer to stay, pure and simple.

She replied with a breathy, "Yea," and they entered her apartment together.

It was just like she'd left it the other day and every day before. It felt good having him there, a warm presence behind her. She'd mentally prepared for a different moment. She knew what it felt like to go home by herself- that was the norm, to enter an empty, dark apartment after a long shift. She'd turn on the T.V. and heat up some food. It was comfortable and quiet. In her mind though, she knew that living there now would feel different. Cold. Vulnerable. She could practically see herself wrapping up tight at night and startling at every little noise, struggling to fall asleep.

But she had to try. It could only get easier, and she had to start somewhere.

"Thank you, I think I'll be ok now," she told him, not quite believing herself. He didn't respond right away so she turned back and saw that he was quietly examining her bookshelf. Only two shelves had actual books- the rest were filled with framed photographs and knick-knacks.

He pointed to one and asked, "Is that you?"

She came closer and saw an old photograph, one from when she couldn't have been older than three years old. She was sitting on the floor with her mother sat behind her, an arm around her round, toddler belly. Sara was turned and grinning, looking up at her.

"Yea," she grinned and moved closer, "and that was my mom."

He smiled and examined it more, "You were close?"

She tilted her head side to side, "It was…complicated. With my dad's career and her struggle with addiction, it was kind of unpredictable. There were good moments though," Sara shrugged, "I know she cared about me."

"How could she not," he agreed as his arm came around her, pulling her closer until her head rested on his collar bone.

The gesture made her emotional, a wave of relief at his companionship coming over her, mingled with sadness and nostalgia. She closed her eyes and gave into it, unable to hold back a sniffle. He rested his cheek on her hair, sensing her distress, and offered again, "Tell me what you need."

She sighed, a tear escaping, "I don't want you to leave," she admitted, "but I think you have to. I haven't been alone since I've been back. I mean, yea I ran a few errands but that doesn't really count. I need to try…to learn how to be independent again."

He nodded against her head, "Alright. Well, if you change your mind-"

"-I'll call you in a panic and demand you come back," she joked as she wiped away a tear.

"And I'll be here in ten minutes or less."

"Money back guarantee?"

"Yup," he answered with firm sincerity, squeezing her against him one more time before letting go.

"Good," she sniffled and laughed, "alright you better get outta here before I change my mind."

His paused a moment before his hands came to her cheeks, pressing a soft kiss to her lips and meeting her eyes, "I mean it. If you need anything-"

"-I promise."

"Ok."

His hands fell from her face as he retreated towards the door. When it shut behind him, she exhaled and looked around, absorbing the silence and solitude. The clock ticked softly on the wall, the A.C. had kicked on and offered a low humming sound, but otherwise there was nothing.

Gingerly, she walked through her apartment as if for the first time, re-familiarizing herself. She flipped on the T.V. and put on a show she'd seen before, a comforting background noise, as she started rummaging around her fridge. Long forgotten leftovers were thrown away, questionable produce meeting the same fate. She started making a list for the store and decided she'd head there soon, giving her an excuse to leave and still be productive.

Laundry that had piled up before that night with Veronica was still in the basket. She grabbed that too and dumped it in the washer and added detergent, starting the load and walking back to the kitchen. The puttering around made her feel better; she watered houseplants and vacuumed, washed a few dishes and switched the laundry over to the dryer.

Home was starting to feel more like it used to, but that realization brought equal amounts of comfort and unease. She was glad to feel more like herself, in charge of her life and comfortable on her own. But she also missed Michael and having his company. She wondered what he thought about all this, and where he saw them going from here. Would she always sleep over at his place? Should she have invited him to stay?

They hadn't really talked about the future, she realized with a bit of dread. She was okay with that normally, with taking things as they come, but their relationship was off to a pretty dramatic start and she was curious. She wanted to see him often, but knew they both had busy schedules with work.

She decided to stop thinking about it and just ask. She finished putting the dishes away and grabbed her phone, sending him a text.

"When get home from work tomorrow do you want to come over?"

It didn't take long for her to get a reply, indicating he could be there whenever she wanted. He got off work earlier than she did, and could come by any time. She felt a bit better, and also considered herself lucky that he didn't push it or ask questions, he simply agreed and left it at that.