Chapter 2: Love & Hate

Sara

Her clenched fist rises up, coming down hard on the wooden door to make a sudden hollow echo with her knuckles twice. Not too loud, but sure to get attention. The arm falls back to her side, relaxing against the soft fabric of her dress, and she turns around to gaze out at the dim street. The hike from the cemetery had given her skin time to change back to its normal fair color, and the sky to do the same. Now, nearly nine o'clock at night, the moon rests big and full in the overhead atmosphere, casting apathetic shadows down on unadorned Panama soil.

Mentally, Sara traces the shapes, coming up with random correspondences to everyday things. It's not that she particularly enjoys participating in this simpleminded task, but it's more out of regular habit. As a mom of two three year olds, it's her responsibility to come up with small games like these to make the time pass more effortlessly. Tonight, the shadows appear to be swaying figures, dancing gracefully across the territory.

The front porch light flashes on, showing that someone has heard her knocking, and she hastily rotates back around to meet them. A familiar face welcomes her, but she's still shocked to see him. "LJ?" She cries out in surprise, immediately leaning forward to give him a big hug. "What are you doing here?"

The once lanky build of a teenage boy is gone, replaced by muscles rippling up his arms and abdomen. His hair is also cropped closer to his head, although not nearly as short as his fathers, and gelled handsomely up in the front. "Hey, Aunt Sara," He says with a grin, gingerly putting her back on her feet. "We just got in a few hours ago. There was some kind of freak explosion at the university and they sent us all home while they renovate."

She nods her head, a smile stretching across her face as well. "I wish there'd been a disaster when I was in med school. Could have really used the extra study time."

He stifles out a snort. "Because that's exactly what I'll be using my mini-vacation to do." They walk casually through the threshold, shutting out the warm air behind them. The constant temperature here is an astounding average of 82 degrees. Even the winter months hold up the fever without complication, resulting in year-round air conditioning. Lincoln tends to be a stickler about not wasting any it.

"Well," She warns, striding inside the house behind him. "According to your dad, you need it. He was pretty mad when he heard about last semester's final grades." Trapping the cool air isn't the only thing he gets anxious about.

LJ's head hangs low when he hears his aunt's half joking-half serious words. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Hannah was pissed too."

The party must be held outside, because the house is completely empty. Deserting her for a few moments, LJ heads to the kitchen, and Sara is left to inspect the small area. There is a couch, an overused recliner, and a TV; the typical furnishings of a living room. Pictures of the family naturally hang from the walls, beaming back at her. She's been in this very room many times before, and it feels like a second home to her. Her fingers reach up to stroke a photo, one she's seen time and time again, but looks at the beauty of it for the first time. Big blue eyes framed by long lashes, short dark hair, a smile that makes her heart melt. Michael stares back at her motionlessly, a smile forever frozen on his lips, and she tries to remember how it felt kissing them. The warmth, the love, the desire…

"Do you want a beer?" LJ's call from the kitchen rips her from her thoughts, and she steps away from the old college photo. Her actions are solely blamed on the time; Sara's still a little keyed up from earlier. She's not usually this emotional. Her head snaps in the direction of the sound, realizing that he's still riffling through the refrigerator, his vision being blocked by the open door.

Good. That means he didn't see.

Sara doesn't need him telling his father about this little episode, which would most likely only result in her return to therapy. "Uh, sure." A drink would be good. Scratch that, a drink would be perfect right now. Seconds later, her nephew comes strolling out of the kitchen, a frosty glass bottle in each hand. Her arm happily comes up to take one from his grasp, and he smirks at her eagerness. She swallows half the container in one gulp.

"Someone's thirsty," His comment is said once they've reached the sliding glass doors leading to the back patio, the weak sound of cheering and intoxicated chatter spilling into the house once the doors are opened.

Her head tilts to the side, viewing him with a look of lighthearted irritation. "Like you would know. Are you even old enough to be drinking that?" She points to the beer held loosely in his hand, teasing him about his age. Of course she remembers his twenty-first birthday; it was just the past summer after all.

"Now would I break the law?" His face glows with innocence, giving LJ the appearance of the scared adolescent he was just years ago. "You know how tightly wound and law biting this family is."

At his words, she has to throw back her head and laugh, and she's not even drunk yet. Tightly wound, maybe, but law biting? This family is anything but. Almost everyone has spent time in prison sometime or another, and just about all of them broke out of it. Jokes like this circulate quite frequently, and it's amusing how no one seems ashamed of their time in jail. Sara has caught Lincoln telling the kids about death row as if it's as typical as high school—something everyone will unavoidably go through. And not just once, but multiple times. "Oh, yes."

Both of them chuckling, they finally make their way out to the back yard. As her eyes slowly adjust to the indistinct lights of the evening, Sara is bombarded by a chorus of greetings and hugs, everyone clearly startled by her presence. This gathering used to antagonize her, feeling like a slap in the face to everyone involved. Eventually, though, she grew to accept that it was in celebration of his life—not his death, but she still didn't attend. It was too much for her to handle.

This year, something changed, however. After leaving the beach, she'd set out for home, which was right down the street from Lincoln and Sofia's house. When it came time for Sara to turn into her own dirt driveway, her legs had taken over against her better judgment. And next thing she knew, she was knocking on their door.

"Well, well, well." Lincoln says, walking over to pull her into a brief hold. "Look who decided to drop by."

Hearing his words, she shrugs her shoulders, taking account of all people here. Alex is the farthest away, leaning calmly against the bar and looking up at the sky, similar to what she herself had done just minutes prior. A few feet away from him, Fernando Sucre is dancing to some rather festive music with Katie, the feeble sound of her giggles bringing a smile to Sara's face. Next, sitting on a dark wrought iron bench is LJ's girlfriend Hannah, her emerald green eyes peeking out between long locks to stare happily at Michael junior who is playing with a toy truck on the ground. Michael absolutely adores Hannah, and the same can be told switched around. Lastly, Sofia stands beside Lincoln, and is the following to give her a hug, whispering encouraging fraises in her ears.

Once everyone is done with their hellos, they go back to whatever it was that they were doing before, LJ walking over to join Hannah on the seat above the little boy. Sara waves to her children, but they seem very focused, only giving her casual "Hi, Mama"'s without even making eye contact. There is a twinge of hurt, but she can't find it within herself to be angry because of their behavior. After all, both their parents were very independent people—well, Sara once was. Lately, she's been finding herself depending on people more and more, and it's starting to scare her. Without knowing it, she had grown so involved with Michael that when he died, it nearly killed her as well.

She knows that if someone else she loved were to perish, she wouldn't be able to survive it this time. That she's certain of.

Feeling slightly awkward by everyone's lack of acknowledgement, but also partly pleased, Sara decides to join Alex. Underneath all the bravado of an FBI agent, he is really a very gentle person. Soft spoken though determined, kind but willing to go to great lengths to achieve a goal. For some reason, he always reminded her the most of her husband. Sure, Lincoln was his brother, Sucre was his best friend, and Katie and Michael were his children—and occasionally she would see something that sparked tribute. But going off general personality, Alex Mahone wins every time. And despite past conflict, Sara has genuinely grown to like this man.

Pulling back a barstool, she takes a seat beside him, letting her bag fall to the counter. Alex's eyes flicker in her direction for a moment before settling back up at the stars. She watches the wrinkles around his forehead crease into lines, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a smile. "How have you been, Sara?" He asks softly, his eyes still trained at the sky.

She is asked this question so repeatedly, it's almost instinctive to answer with 'I'm fine.' People don't want to know how you really are, it's that simple. They want to know you're fine, even if you aren't. Is Sara fine? Perhaps. She gets from day to day, attends family gatherings, and cares for two children as well as herself. She keeps the house tidy, the kids never go to bed after eight o'clock (with the rare exception of tonight), and she enjoys a glass of wine now and again. She has made friends with some people from the market, and has dinner with Sofia and Lincoln at least twice a week. This should all qualify as 'fine' shouldn't it? "I'm getting by."

His hand comes to rest on hers lightly, a sympathetic expression crossing his features. He knows what it means to just get by. It's as if you're standing on an island, looking out at distant figures on the surrounding horizon, screaming at the top of your lungs for help. You're stuck, and scared, and completely alone. In the art of getting by, no one knows you're hurting. No one can hear you, and part of you doesn't want them to. You're going through the motions of everyday life, but not living it.

She gives his offered fingers a kind squeeze, the sadness that comes along with the day inevitably resurfacing. Right after Michael died, the sorrow was always there. Depression struck almost everyone in the family, but Sara was by far the worst off. She had to constantly be feeling part of him, either it was throwing up her food every morning or having her belly laced with stretch marks later on, he was always there. And it was absolutely terrible. Her dreams were constantly haunted by what could have been. Doctors' appointments, black and white photos of the baby, buying a house, painting the nursery…It was all so painful, especially when she woke up alone in the bed, crying her eyes out. They weren't nightmares, they were far more frightening.

She was always at odds with herself, going back and forth between emotions. Yes, she loved him. But a part of her absolutely hated him for putting her through this. Those nine months were a very confusing time for her, all the love and the hate blurring together in her mind. After painstakingly delivering not one, but two screaming children, she had finally come to a decision though. She hated him, because she loved him, and now it's her own little inside joke that she tells his grave sometimes.

Her whole life, she'd been so independent, not ever trusting people. Her mother had died years ago, and her father was always busy with politics. Sara had turned to drugs as a support system, as a way out. The part of herself yearning for an others love had been burning like a fire, begging to be set free, and the morphine had satisfied that growing hunger. No, not satisfied, but numbed. In a strange sense, Michael Scofield had become her morphine. He made her feel special, and loved, and happy. But unlike the drug, he hadn't numbed her. She could feel it all, and it was great. For the first time ever in her life, her future didn't scare her. Sara knew where it was going, liked where it was going. It was all planned out, and then all of a sudden it wasn't. She was arrested, and Michael being Michael had to die breaking her out.

The universe just couldn't let them be happy.

Being torn from her somber thoughts, there is an abrupt clanging of glass and silverware up near where she had just come out close to ten minutes ago. "Uh, can we get everyone's attention?" Instantly, all heads outside on the patio snap in the direction of the sound, clear confusion written across each face. The culprit is easily spotted, standing dominantly in front of the group with a wineglass held firmly in one hand and a fork in the other. LJ looks around at his friends and family, a grin spreading across his face as he opens his mouth to speak again, a massive bicep wrapping it way around his girlfriend who stands just slightly behind him.

"We have something to tell everyone." Both are now smiling from ear to ear, their faces brimming with happiness as they offer each other knowing facial expressions. Hannah nods to LJ, giving him a mixture between confidence and permission to continue.

Beating them to the punch line, though, Lincoln jumps up from his seat in anger, an arm shooting out in front of him erratically. "You got her pregnant, didn't you?" He growls, appearing as if he's ready to charge towards his one and only son. "Didn't you!"

Fear fills LJ's eyes, his own hands coming up in surrender—or maybe it's to protect himself. Sara isn't quite sure. The whole situation…it's so strange. One second, she's daydreaming, and the next Lincoln is practically convulsing in fury just four yards. She feels both of her children fasten their tiny arms around her knees, their cobalt eyes looking up at her in panic. They must have run to their mother after hearing their uncle become uncharacteristically cross. Her hands pat their tiny heads and she kneels down to be eye level with them, giving their foreheads a kiss before murmuring "It's okay," over and over again in their ears. Once the twins have calmed down, all three turn their gazes back to the excitement without hesitation.

LJ has now taken a protective stance in front of Hannah, Sofia desperately trying to stop any further argument by laying a gentle hand on her significant other's trembling shoulder. "Shhh…Lincoln you're scaring the child." She rumors in desperation.

"Yeah, come on Linc!" Sucre calls, taking a step forward as well. "Calm the hell down!"

Lincoln's eyes flicker to Katie and Michael's petrified expressions for just a second before resonating back into a glare towards the two college students. "I can't believe this!" Sofia and Sucre's attempt at composure seems to have helped because his tone is now significantly lower in octave. "How the hell could this have happened?!" Even though he knows damn well how it happened.

"No!" This time it's Hannah to speak, her voice muffled from behind LJ's enormous form. However quiet, there is a sense of finality to her voice, the single word managing to transmit throughout the entire patio in determination. If they weren't paying attention before, then they sure are now. Every head rotates to look at the petite blonde, shock at her outburst too much to overlook. Hannah is usually so modest.

Grabbing hold of LJ's hand, she has enough confidence to say what he was unable to. "I'm not pregnant, so could you please sit back down?" Embarrassment instantly fills Lincoln's face as he realizes what a mistake he's just made. His whole demeanor promptly changes; each arm slackening as he gives a nearly inaudible apology, the skin of his face once red with anger but now only flushed in mortification. "Thank you. Now if you don't mind," She shoots him one last glance of annoyance. "LJ and I have some really exciting news!"

Now that everyone—well, really only Lincoln—has pacified, the earlier smiles have returned. Before anyone else can interrupt, they look one last time at each other with enthusiasm in their eyes, and turn to the eagerly awaiting crowd. "We're getting married!" They cry in unison as Sofia right away jumps back up from the lawn furniture to give the newly engaged couple hugs and congratulations. Naturally sight of the ring is asked and Sucre and even Alex step forward to see. "The wedding will be held in seven months, on Saturday, June 6th!" Sara feels both Katie and Michael release their grasps as even they run forward to join the gathering. It's not that they understand what's going on, but more out of doing what everyone else is. Jeez, my three year olds are more social then I am, she thinks bitterly.

Of course she's happy for Hannah and LJ; Michael's not the only one who absolutely loves her, and Sara knows she will make a wonderful wife. It's just…she'd rather give everyone else the chance to acknowledge. She'll come forward later. Her eyes land on Lincoln who's still sitting down appearing as if he's a little confused with what's going on. Sara slowly makes her way to him, and then parks herself in the spot Sofia was just sitting minutes ago.

Lincoln looks up at the sudden warmth of a new body. "Hey…"

With a mirroring expression, Sara gives his arm a steady pat. "Hey."

"Would you say I just made a gigantic ass of myself, or colossal?"

She takes a moment to think over his question, a finger coming to her lips as she pretends to ponder. "Hmm…that depends. Are you going to continue moping around down here on a bench, or actually congratulate your son and soon to be daughter-in-law already?"

His arm rises up to rest across Sara's shoulders, a timid smile gradually appearing. "You're right. Thanks for not rubbing it in my face."

He leaves her a soft kiss on the cheek, ready to stand up and join the rest of his family when Sara can't help but add something more that had been gnawing at the back of her thoughts since the announcement. "Well, you'll be getting enough grief sent your way the next few months. You don't need by assistance."

There is clear confusion by the way he knit's his eyebrows together at her statement. "What…why?"

Without even blinking, she holds back a snort while continuing. "Think about how pissed Sofia will be that one Burrows can commit to his college sweet-heart at the age of twenty-one, and the other—who's pushing forty, might I add—won't even go anywhere near a jeweler. There'll be hell to pay."

Something very rare on the face of Lincoln Burrows conquers his features, twisting them up in fear. He knows exactly what Sara is referring to. For the past two years Sofia has been dropping hints nonstop about getting married, and she'd even discussed it with Sara herself a few times. Sofia had straightforwardly asked her how she ever got Michael to propose, and her answer was pretty simple; get knocked up. After all, that's pretty much the reason they married so quickly. It's not that they didn't do it for love, because god knows how crazy they were of each other, but the unplanned pregnancy definitely pushed them in the right direction. By no means was Sara telling Sofia to have a baby, but it was more her way of saying that she wasn't really a good source for marital advice. She was locked in prison for all of the brief marriage, and when she finally got out, Michael was already gone.

Lincoln grimaces as his thoughts no doubt echo Sara's. "Oh, god."

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