Disclaimer: I don't own Prison Break or Wentworth Miller, sad but true.

Spoilers until "Sona", after that, just my sick imagination.

Pairing: Michael/Sara.

Rating: PG-16

Summary: …And Sara thought that it was her time to say "Thank you".

Dedicated to Maria, thank you for making it possible.

Title: Thank you

Chapter title: The path.

By Lylou

Insults, comments or reviews are always welcome.

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-"… If I surrender now, I lose everyone I love."

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Sara felt the hot and intoxicating evening breeze playing softly with her hair, the same way it was slowly waving through the white and thin fabric of her long dress.

But she didn't move. She just continued standing there, looking at the protruding building at the end of the road. When she finally moved, Sara touched the chassis of the car absent-mindedly with her hand.

It was hot.

Sometimes Sara couldn't help but think that everything there was hot.

Starting with the air trapped in her lungs, her lonely and soft blankets at night, and the suffocating air removed lazily by the ventilator over her big bed… Or her blood and her guilt, flowing trough her veins… Especially the latter one.

The guilt leaving a hot and familiar aftertaste in her palate.

Sometimes Sara was convinced that having to feel something would be two times harder with the guilty heat surrounding her.

"Surely he has been exposed to a much more excruciating heat locked away in that place, than you in your expensive hotel room"

There it was. That guilt ridden and bitter tone in the back of her mind… Sometimes Sara heard it above her own voice.

Maybe she would never stop doing that now; listening to that voice. Maybe the only thing that Michael would see in her eyes from now on would be her trembling pupils and a dark shadow of guilt.

Maybe she had lost him forever.

Sara closed her eyes a bit and looked at the dry ground.

It was just too painful to think that maybe Michael Scofield wouldn't look at her as he used to. As if she was the only person in the world for him. Just the mere thought made her eyes well up with hot tears.

To think that maybe he would never say her name in that certain way again. With his voice low and modest, as if "Sara" was the only word left in Michael Scofield's vocabulary. The only word he could still remember.

Because Sara had never felt less lonely and more scared, than when she heard Michael say her name like that.

And it wasn't just the guilt. The overpowering guilt was an important component in their defeat of course, but it was the rage, the anger and the sadness that was making her bleed to death.

That, and the miserable unfairness that fate had dealt them.

So much that Sara was now sure that they would never really have even a small shot at making it.

At this very moment she was standing under the evening sun, in that hot and deserted esplanade, waiting in pain for those two heavy doors to open. Waiting to see what was left of Michael after having been two months in that place for her, Sara finally understood that it was impossible to win, when the devil was dealing the cards.

"Too high a price and not enough options."

If she had lost him, if this was going to be the end of them, which it seemed to be, at least it had been the second time that she had saved him.

Maybe she could hold on tight to that knowledge, when the rage and the despair found her, alone in her expensive bed.

Or when she would have to go through with the final and painful part of her deal.

-"Are you okay?"

Lincoln spoke from the other side of the car. He was leaning onto the chassis and it seemed as if the heat was having no effect on him.

He hadn't spoken to her in all the time they had spent waiting for Michael in front of the prison. It wasn't strange, because he wasn't really very talkative… And it was funny, because that was one of the few characteristics that were shared by Michael and Lincoln.

There weren't uncomfortable silences with those men… At least not before.

At the beginning, when Lincoln had lost all hope of getting his younger brother back and when Sara was seeing the desperation in his eyes regularly, Sara liked being next to Lincoln.

It was the only part of Michael that she could still touch, like a clear yet silent prove of his presence.

And Sara remembered why she was doing that.

Sara remembered that one night almost three weeks ago, she had been awake in her big and lonely bed, afraid.

She was scared, because she suddenly thought she didn't remember Michael's scent anymore.

When her mother died, the first thing she forgot about her, had been her particular scent.

And the second thing had been her voice.

Sara still remembered that very well, and that night she thought that though she may have forgotten Michael's scent, she wasn't ready to forget his voice as well.

So she got out of bed and slowly, and with burning tears sliding down her cheeks, walked to the hotel corridor. She went to Lincoln's room, only to discover that he was awake as well:

-"I don't want to forget his voice either."

That had been the only words Sara voiced that night. She just lay down in the bed, without touching Lincoln, merely lying next to him. Still feeling the warm tears on her face and now on the pillow as well, Sara looked at Lincoln through the half-light, and when Lincoln looked at her in silence, Sara felt as if the one and only Michael Scofield were looking back at her.

This didn't last longer than a couple of seconds, but after that Sara was finally able to close her eyes and let some much needed sleep and rest overpower her. The burning tears were still drying on her cheeks, when Sara fell asleep that night in Lincoln's bed. She slept through the whole night for the first time in months.

Lincoln's voice shook her from her thoughts:

-"… Are you okay?"

This time Sara turned to look at him under the evening sun, but Lincoln hadn't even looked at her.

Sara smiled weakly and looked again to the still closed doors:

-"…Yes. It's just a bit strange to think that everything is going to finally come to an end."

Lincoln smiled sadly and looked at the ground before speaking with a very cautious tone in his voice. It was as if he wasn't really sure if he should be saying this:

-"You know… He's not going to blame you Sara…

For any of it."

Sometimes Sara had the feeling that that man was always looking askance at her. Half worried and half suspicious.

And with that last "For any of it", Sara wondered how much of her secret Lincoln knew.

-"How can you be sure of that?"

Her voice broke a bit under the painful sun, and this time Sara looked straight at Lincoln when she spoke, only to discover that he was looking at her too:

-"Because I know my brother…

He is incapable of blaming someone other than himself…

Especially you."

Sara spoke again, trying to hide the pain in her words by speaking firmly, as if it was just an innocent question:

-"And you Lincoln… Do you blame me for anything?"

He looked a bit surprised and confused, but before Lincoln had the chance to answer her, the heavy doors of the prison entrance opened slowly, almost painstakingly slow.

She separated herself from the car by taking a few steps toward the now open doors. She opened her trembling mouth, as if to say something, but she was unable to.

Sara saw Michael, walking under the sun along the dusty path, slowly, to where she and Lincoln were waiting for him.

Sara could feel her eyes fill with warm tears long before Michael was even close enough to notice it.

And all of a sudden, Sara painfully realized just how much she had missed him in all this time.

Suddenly everything that had happened in the past two months, and even before that, was slowly getting blurred, as if she had just awakened from a nightmare.

During the seconds it took for Michael to reach them, everything else in the world lost its meaning.

Everything.

Even what she would still have to do.

When he was just a few feet from her, Sara saw his eyes, and she knew that Michael was still there and that he didn't blame her for anything.

Sara sensed a shiver running down her spine, when she felt his warm and intense gaze settle upon her, in that way what only Michael Scofield could.

Michael had that shy smile on his face that always had made her feel as if everything between them was so wrong and addictive… God, she had missed that smile.

Sara felt her bottom lip quivering. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck and held onto him as tight as she could.

She felt Michael's warm breathe against her ear, and his hands holding her tightly while pulling her closer to his body.

She felt the evening sun falling upon them yet the hot breeze was still waving through her dress and her hair and Sara began to cry softly of pure and stupid happiness.

She cried against his t-shirt, forgetting about everything else.

Michael felt Sara trembling quietly against his chest and tightened his grip around her, until he could feel her hot tears moistening his t-shirt and Sara buried her face in this very T-shirt until she remembered again, how Michael Scofield smells.

Sara heard his low voice, whispering her name into her ear and she held onto him a bit tighter and with more urgency:

-"…It's okay Sara.

We have won."

Sara separated a bit from him, just enough to look at him through her burning tears. With her hands against the fabric of his t-shirt, Sara saw all the pain stored in his eyes.

"…We haven't won Michael … We have lost everything.

We could never have won."

Of course, Sara didn't say it out loud, she wasn't ready to face reality by saying it out loud; but there it was, waiting silently for them, the most painful lie of all.

Sara looked at him in silence and moved a bit to give Lincoln the chance to embrace his brother.

The two men hugged for a few seconds and Sara could see Michael closing his eyes, touched and overwhelmed.

When they finally separated Michael looked to both of them with wet eyes, but he still had that shy and sexy smile on his lips, as he spoke in an incredulous and soft voice:

-"We did it…"

Sara's eyes filled with warm tears yet again, but this time she held them back and hugged Michael again, burying her face in his t-shirt, feeling his fingers going through her hair slowly.

When Sara spoke against him, her words were slightly muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt, and her voice was broken, knowing that that was going to be the most painful and sore lie of all:

-"…Yes Michael…

We did it."

Sara felt Michael's hands rubbing up and down her back soothingly, and he separated from Sara a bit to look at her. And There it was:

The way that Michael Scofield had always looked at her.

Sara knew then that Michael hadn't even noticed that she had lied to him.

-"…Come on…

Let's go back to the hotel."

Lincoln's voice sounded distant because of the strong breeze attacking her back. She was still locked in Michael's embrace. They looked to Lincoln and walked slowly to the car doors, but before getting in Michael looked at the big behind them.

The sunset lit up the sky, bathing it in an orange hue, the shadows were stretched out, making everything seem vaster: their car, the small rocks on the ground, even themselves… and that building… And with that same sun trapped in his wet eyes, Michael looked at the building for the last time.

He smiled, feeling really free for the very first time, since that unforgettable day that he entered armed in that bank.

To be continued….

Insults, comments or reviews are always welcome.