It's crazy how such a tiny human being can become such a part of your life, she thought. And of course she'd witnessed it, on other women, on other mothers – to be a mother, nothing you can hear from people or read in books can actually prepare you to how life changing it is. You see it happen, but when it's you – when you're holding this baby against your chest and he feels so small and so little and too precious for this world – she had no idea, she couldn't know, no one could know, until you feel that small little heart beat and it's so magical.

Of course, the way M.J was born was unforgettable as well, same went for the company – this was the last she'd seen of Paul Kellerman in months; she remembered him holding her hand, sharing one of the most intimate, painful-beautiful moments of her life, and boy, if someone had told her that he would be there when she gave birth, getting his hand crushed by hers, suffering by compassion – this too, but for completely different reasons, she couldn't have seen coming.

A smile escaped her when she saw the wide eyes of her son scan her, already aware and glimmering with an intelligence that the little being couldn't yet speak. She'd already read everything about what a baby can do when he's two months old, she read he could recognize objects, like his baby bottle for example, which had made her want to buy him dozens of teddy bears or soft comfortable baby clothes; she knew it was probably in her mind, because she was seriously getting paranoid, but it seemed that M.J only smiled when she waved the gift Paul had left her a few months ago. She would have never actually made her son wear it, only Lincoln saw it once and unknowingly dressed his nephew with it – Sara had yelled at him afterwards, even though she knew her hormones weren't completely uninvolved in how angry she was; Linc had just remained there, wordlessly, a little sheepish, before finally asking if she wasn't going to use it why hadn't she thrown it away. She had no idea why, so she kept yelling. Either way, it had already become M.J's favorite clothing. This had to be a conspiracy.

The front door opened, a cold whisk of snowy wind entering the room shortly, before Lincoln shut the door, and Sucre approached.

"Dios, is that him?" He was more excited than a five year-old discovering a giant lollipop.

"No, Fernando," She just joked, "I just happen to have stolen this baby, M.J's upstairs."

He looked so overwhelmed it was as though he hadn't heard her. He rushed to the baby, immediately showing this goofy-face that Sara was really getting used to by now.

"Hi you," He whispered, "Yo conocí a tu padre, te pareces a él."

Strangely enough, the first time she'd met him, at first glance, she would have never pegged Fernando Sucre as the baby-loving kind of guy, but then, the first time he opened his mouth and could not stop talking for one second she sort of figured. She couldn't repress an amused smile at the expression on the ex-con's face.

"Hey," Lincoln saluted as he strode to her.

"Hi," She greeted back, as he kissed her on the cheek.

"How's our new-mother?"

"Exhausted," She slightly chuckled, "but you know, happy."

Happy like her heart was fuller than ever had been – it made it a little easier to deal with the emptiness Michael had left behind.

"I bet." He didn't look displeased herself.

She glanced at Sucre, taking it that was what amused him.

"He has a baby of his own, you'd think he'd be used to it." She just joked.

Lincoln didn't laugh, but the smile didn't go anywhere.

"I gotta talk to you," He just said, still wearing that expression.

"What?" She strangely worried.

"All good news," He hastily specified, "now come on, let's leave these two some alone time."

She followed him to the kitchen, where he poured her a glass of water.

"What is it?" She inquired.

He smiled as though he couldn't hold it back in anymore.

"You're free."

"Excuse me?"

"Free," He repeated, his joy bursting just a little, "exonerated, clean, call it anything you want!"

"We made it?" She just let out in a stunned-shocked yelp as he crushed her in a smothering-happy embrace, "Wow," she managed, "I mean – I just… wow. How did that even happen?"

"Kellerman."

Strangely she hadn't seen that coming, but it oddly wasn't that bugging anymore, it wasn't about him owing her, or her owing him, right now he had just made it so she was a free woman able to raise her child without hiding, and without owing, she was grateful.

"Wow," She just repeated, after Lincoln had let go of her, "I mean – but," her brows furrowed slightly, "if he did all this shouldn't he be here to burst the big news with you guys?"

She found it hard to believe he'd miss an occasion to brag.

"Yeah," Lincoln said, tilting his head, and now that she knew him better she knew it meant 'slight inconvenient'.

"What?" She asked.

"Well when he somehow got your case to the White House you were graced, but, to convince people about your innocence he had to reveal facts that – let's say get him further involved in all of this."

"Wait, I don't get it, he already confessed to everything at my trial last year-"

"Look, Sar, someone had to take the fall for it," He said, "if he had to incriminate himself to get you a clean record then I don't care what his reasons were, all right?"

"Incriminate? Wait, how big is this?"

"Nothing troubling, he won't spend a second in prison," He shrugged, "although he lost his shot at becoming senator, lost it to what-his-name with the dubious haircut."

"Oh," She said, half imitating his carelessness, "but, um – you didn't really tell me why he didn't come here to tell me."

"Well he didn't exactly say either."

"What, you think he's mad?" She wondered helplessly, "It's not my fault if he lost his shot at being a senator, I mean it is, a little, but it was his choice-"

"Sar," He interrupted, "you were exonerated, you're free like a bird, can we celebrate or is this evening going to be about Paul Kellerman? Besides, since when do you care?"

"Wow, you've got to be joking," She uttered, "two months ago you were all like 'give him a chance' and now you're actually-"

"Hey, don't get me wrong," He said, "first of all, I never forgive the guy for what he did to me, or you, now, am I grateful he got you exonerated? Yes. But we don't need him anymore, what did you expect? A friendly visit?"

Since she didn't answer he just chuckled slightly to kill the ambiance that had settled in the room.

"Come on," He said, "I'll pop open a bottle of ginger ale and we'll celebrate, all right?"

…

It had been a month now since she was officially free, three months since she'd heard a word from Paul, and two weeks since she'd moved.

She was glad that, if her brother made a game of ignoring her, Kristine still checked on her often. She'd found her an apartment in the same building where she lived, which made friendly-daily visits easy and casual. Sara never asked about Paul, even though talking with his sister made it as though he hadn't completely disappeared from the face of the earth; she'd like to have news, or at least an explanation, but for some reasons every time she thought of asking something inside of her shut her down.

And then, one day, after she'd put M.J to sleep, she heard vehement knocks on the door.

"Kristine," She greeted as she opened the door, "hey, what's the rush?" she wondered after seeing her hurry in, looking just about as excited as Lincoln did a month ago.

"Here's something for you," She handed her a long paper in an envelope.

Sara's brows furrowed slightly.

"What is it?"

"Your medical license," Kristine answered.

"What?" Sara already felt herself smiling helplessly too, a half-shocked-stunned smile," But after the Fox River incident I was never supposed to practice again."

"I know, but Paul pulled some strings and-"

"What, Paul did what?"

"Is there a problem?"

"No," She ultimately said, "well, yes! I mean, first he exonerates me and doesn't even come to rub it in my face, then he ignores me and – I didn't even know he was still working on my case."

"You didn't?"

"No, why?"

"It's just – given the circumstances I thought…"

"What circumstances?"

"Um…" Kristine hesitated, "Just read the bottom of the page."

Sara felt her mouth slightly open in shock, a little outrage too.

"What?" She just uttered out loud.

"Wow, I'm sorry, I thought he called you, at least talked to you – I mean, I thought he'd discussed this with you."

"Where did you get that idea from?"

"Well, I don't know, since you never told me anything was wrong, and he acts completely normally-"

"Wait, you've seen him?" Sara suddenly felt something this close to betrayal she'd honestly rather be angry than sad.

"Well – yes, I just saw him yesterday."

For a second Sara couldn't even manage words.

"Kris, could you give me the address?"

…

The rational driven voice trailed off from her brain as she ignored it thoroughly. She kept going up these endless stairs, oblivious to man escorting her, who found her paced walking a little hard to catch up with. She didn't care one bit, not about her intruding entrance to Kellerman's lair that seemed so irrational, nor about his upcoming reaction when he'll see her.
She had spent three whole days debating this in her mind; whether she should confront him about what troubled her or letting go and forcibly move on but fighting this needful will to spit it to his face had been useless. He had no right to do this, to cut contact as though he had never shown up since her trial. She would be on his back until he gave her some answers; she was no leaving without them.
As fast as she opened his office door, the escorting figure jumped in behind her claiming "I'm sorry sir, I wasn't able to-"
A slightly dazed Paul in reaction to Sara's appearance stood up, instantly recovering, with a reassuring hand he addressed him "it's Okay, Brian. Thank you"
The man retreated, closing the door behind him.
With his typical composure and calm light smile he voiced "Hello, Sara."
Holding up the famous file that contained her freedom she growled at him "what the hell is this?" she dropped it over his desk and he grabbed it without a word. He sighed out as he opened it to find the contract she had not yet signed.
"I can't practice unless I see a shrink?! Is this some kind of sick joke!"S shouted at him but he simply closed it again and put it back on the desk, his hands diving into his pockets.
"Yes you do" He replied, his eyes dead on hers. She laughed at the irony of this. Could this be more embarrassing? She knew it wasn't his doing. that it was a major condition for her exoneration but putting up with this would be crazy. She couldn't even put the blame on him, not after what it cost him to get her that freaking file. But Gosh how she wanted to right now, for requiring this humiliating task from her, for letting Lincoln and all the others break the news to her and not even bothering to be damn present when they did. How could he wash his hands of her so easily? As if she was some sort of charge, a job or mission that was terminated and put aside.
Feeling these resentments over this man, of all those around her, this man she should still be distrustful of was not alright with her. Her pregnancy had ended months before, odd moods or emotions should be gone. She could not accept this raging feeling that had been haunting her from that memorable day, when he sat there and told her he was not leaving her, that he wouldn't fail her.
Yet he stood there as if nothing was wrong, this pain was unbearable. Worst than that, pain over Kellerman's deeds was undeniably unacceptable. He had kept to his first promise; he didn't leave her when she was in deep need of him. He had promised to stay until the day all this would be over, and it was. He had gotten her free again and did what she had wished the most the first days he came to her, he walked away once his job was done. Wasn't it all she asked for through her entire pregnancy, when she kept telling him in every way to get lost, he said he would that one time they had a face to face in her Kitchen.
Why was everything so naggingly different? Why was she so ** off at his sudden disappearance? Why did she expect him to show up again and break the news to her himself? Sara Tancredi had always hated puzzles, ambiguity and questions kept unanswered, but this right here she hated most, the two sided behavior she wanted to have with Paul was suffocating her.

Nothing would feel better than to slap him, to call him a traitor for not keeping his promise of being always there, for disappearing of her sight and doing what her other part told him to do constantly, for listening to her when she rejected his attempts of being nice to her, near her. For taking her previous poisoned insults seriously. For being affected by her threats and actually backed off.
At the same time she knew that this was safer, this was what had been planned: his help than his withdrawal from her life. The defensive voice in her mind recalling her of her not so resilient motto: to never let him in, never trust him or give him a chance to screw you over again.
Then again, Sara hated plans, someone always came miserable in the outcome. Her defensive inner self nibbled on the fruit of fear to survive. And while Sara stood opposite him, for the first time since she came in she actually saw him, her anger subsiding, she took in his presence, the familiarity of his face, his ice blue eyes that left her numb and helpless at each stare, his physique that had once been a dread she could not stand.
A passing pain passed through her chest and she gulped, this was Lance, the friend. This was the government agent that tortured her shamelessly and actually dared to say he cared for her before coldly leaving her to drown. This was Kellerman, who came around, baffling her by saving her from a twelve years imprisonment, justifying his actions along with it in front of a whole jury and herself. This was the congressman that contributed in destroying the company and helping Michael, the one that stood at the safe house offering nothing but help to free her. The last memory of him when she was giving birth made her look away as the passing pain took a turn to her stomach.
She never believed that she could feel this way around him, affected, vulnerable, attainable and without any control. She tried to revive the faded shadows of her past hatred-like walls against him but that was of no use. Things had changed and as much as she refused to accept this fact, she couldn't do anything about it. In the end, Paul had won; he succeeded in getting to her somehow, and broke into that fortress around her. He had made her care about him.
"In regards to your history with drugs the medical department believed that a regular therapy is necessary for a few years. this is their procedure Sara" she couldn't wrap her mind about her own inner responses to this, she had not been aware she had oddly longed to hear his voice again until this moment and had a hard time listening to what he was actually saying "take it or leave it. And I advise you take it"
"no offence Paul, this is some real **" she could read the amusement and astonishment on his face, he wasn't expecting swearing from a mother who had chided him a few months ago about a bad word he uttered in front of her unborn child.
"you're upset, I get it" he started saying before she cut him off " oh do you?" her tone said more than her words and he could see she was blurt out something big to his face.
"I had to find out by reading through this pile of papers. Why didn't you tell me this yourself?"
"No offence but you've been through a lot. I know this therapy thing will do you good" he told her nonchalantly.
"That doesn't answer my question? I mean you did what you bragged about all year in your meetings, you had me cleared of all charges-" She spoke dryly.
"I never bragged" he cut in. But she continued "I never thought Paul Kellerman would hide in his corner rather than showing up to rub it in"
"Where are you going with this?" his sudden serious upset tone suddenly paralyzed her anger and attack.
"Are you asking for an explanation over something you decided?" The posture he held, the near mocking face he showed gave him a sense of power, control and a hell of a scary charm that kept her lips sealed.
She kept quiet, feeling the sting of her vengeful nature she let out at him like a snake that first day he showed up nearly a year ago.
He instantly added with more cold anger filling his tone "we had a deal, remember? Which you made up. I promised to get out of your life once you're free. Enjoy every minute of your earned liberty. I was there when necessary, but you should be happy you won't need to stand my frequent presence around anymore"
"Now you get to decide what I need and what I don't need?" the resentment-filled words were out before she had any control to stop them, lingering in the air and causing him to pause with a bewildered expression. Looking as though he had just received an unexpected punch to his face, Paul couldn't bring himself to move while watching her gather the papers she brought along silently and about to walk away.
"Am I wrong?" he managed to speak out "or is it that I'm over privileged enough now to visit"
"I don't recall ever forbidding you to." She threw back, her eyes still down avoiding his eyes. "By the way, I'm sorry about…your blown up chance of becoming a senator."
"I'm not, it was worth it" she heard him say confidently than faced him as he added "besides, you know I'm no quitter, I'll run for the next elections."
She hurried to the door and slowed as she felt his following steps than finally turned to be faced with a barely there smile, almost smug and cocky. She gulped, she should never have come here she thought, getting this low, degraded to the point of asking Paul Kellerman of all people to stick around felt so pathetic to her. With an ounce of anger and rage still in her she told him outright "don't take this as a sign of forgiveness, long way from there." she saw him bite his lip still in pride, clearly taking her words for granted "this isn't about you, it's about me, I'm not an ungrateful person. It's an awful lot of challenge to hold a grudge against someone who risked so much to give me my life back."
He gave her a slight nod, replying quietly "I appreciate your efforts to say 'Thank you' Sara" he smiled a bit and that brought another knot to form quickly in her stomach at the way he spoke her name "I don't want you to. I'd like to think now we're even"
Was that some kind of goodbye line because it sure sounded like one? She reacted inwardly. That was it; she couldn't take any more of these jumbled emotions he was creating in her with his responses. Why should she care anyway, everything went as she had wanted it to in the beginning, why did this disturbing sadness living inside her now. Five months back from now she would have given anything to see this day, of Paul getting out of her life for good. But now, there was a hollowness she couldn't and did not want to explain.
She would have to cope, as she had done with Michael's death. M.J was her life now, he was top priority over any thought, any difficulty she was experiencing. Reminding herself of that repeatedly she walked out of the building without a look back.