Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, not Prison Break, not Michael, not Sara, not even Kellerman… lame but true.
Spoilers for all the first season.
Although English isn't my first language, Lisa is great and makes this possible.
Thank you.
Any mistakes that remain are my own.
Summary: Sometimes, just the faith isn't enough.
Title: Some nights.
I really appreciate all of the feedback and reviews that I have received... Please keep them coming!
By Lylou
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-"You what!"
-"I don't have to talk with you about this Lincoln"
-"Of course you have to!
... You are really cold sometimes Michael, she... "
-"It's not your business Lincoln.
I always do what I have to do."
-"You keep saying that Michael, but that's not true.
And yes, it is my fucking business."
They were in the always lonely beach, where Michael's new house was, the sun was beating them without pity and the Pacific Ocean never had seemed more blue and brilliant to Michael.
Lincoln realized that his brother was no longer on the defensive, and he talked again, this time, slowly and without shouting:
-"When Veronica died..."
-"Lincoln...I"
-"Let me finish, okay?
I just...I couldn't help her Michael.
And every damn night, I can't help to think "What if..."
-"Sara is not going to die..."
-"I'm not only talking about death Michael... I think she needs you around."
-"No... She is much better without me…"
-"I guess, you will never know it now."
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She heard low voices near her.
Someone was talking in the room.
Her head was killing her, Sara could feel dull pain somewhere, she tried to open her eyes but her eyelids were weighed and gummy, like if something warm had been spilt on them.
It was disgusting, and she could feel intensive pain now, but most of all, Sara felt the fear.
When finally she opened her eyes, she realised that she was tied to something.
She was tied to a chair.
Her hair was stuck to her forehead and Sara could feel her heart beating to her in the temples.
The last few memories that she had, crowded in her mind, while her breath was dangerously beginning to accelerate.
Michael angry at her door, sleeping with him... the note.
Then she knew it.
It was happening.
Paul had discovered her, she remembered the call on his cellular phone, and the strange look in his eyes... the game was over for her.
Without really knowing how, Sara realized that it was blood.
The warm thing over her left eye was blood, her own blood silently running away from her body.
Now she was really scared.
More than she ever had been before.
Even more than that far morning, when the prison turned into a hell and she believed that she would die in that room full of smoke.
Until HE appeared to save the day, like a fucking hero.
But Michael wasnt there now.
The room was dark, but her eyes had become accustomed already and she could see two men standing by the door.
They were no longer talking.
Sara felt dizzy and her mouth was dry, surely, because of the fear, but even so, her voice sounded much more decided so than she had thought.
-"I'm Sara Tancredi!
Do you even know who my father is!"
One of those men got close to her, so much, that Sara was able to smell his after-shave lotion, she tried to move, but the cuffs of her wrists turned over an acute pain to her.
-"Your father asked us to ... help you."
-"Help me?"
Her voice sounded broken and confused, maybe it was just a big and awful mistake; her father was unable to send the secret service to "Help her."
Right?
-"What do you want from me?
Tell me!"
-"Please, calm down Ms. Tancredi."
-"I'm a U.S. citizen and you ..."
- "You don't have rights here, do you understand?"
Sara was going to reply, but then, the metal door opened letting the corridor light enter the room.
And there he was.
-"I can handle it from here.
Thank you gentleman."
The two men with dark suits abandoned the room in silence.
-"Hi Paul."
He looked at her in silence one moment before talking, slowly and a bit surprised:
-"... Hi Sara."
-"If you think that I'm going to say anything to you, it's that you are even sillier than I am."
-"I know, that is why I'm here".
-"And how is this going to be Paul... Are you going to give me electric discharges? Or the classic bamboo underneath my fingernails?"
-"No one... I'm taking you out of here."
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-"It's not going to happen Paul..."
-"You will have to trust me Sara... because they want you dead."
Sara felt the cold and sharpening December wind on her skin and among her hair, but it wasn't enough to clear her.
Her head was killing her, it hurts more than anything, the dry blood over her eye and the hit were making her feeling dizzy and weak.
With the intense pain and cold over her body every second, Sara began to think that she was going to need medical attention, but however, there she was, hurt, cold, and scared like hell, knowing that surely, it was one of the most difficult and hard moments in her life, she wanted to run and hide, but she was not willing to let him notice it.
-"Paul... do you really think that he just has given me his phone number?
I do not have a way to get in touch with him."
-"Sara... I know that is not true
...But you don't have to die tonight"
Sara sighed, she knew perfectly how to locate Michael, but she isn't going to call him from a damn telephone booth, just with the promise of her lover, and secret service agent, to let them go.
-"I hope that you have a plan B, because is not going to happen Paul.
I'm not going to betray Michael"
-"I know, and I don't want you to do it... you just have to go Sara, you are a hinder for them, they are going to kill you."
-"I can disappear by my own way... You don't even need to see Michael for that Paul,
Why do you want him to come for me?"
-"I need to be sure Sara, if they catch you again... well, they are not really kind sometimes."
She touched slowly the hit on her head and the pain raised fast over her body.
-"Yeah... I noticed it, but why are you doing this Paul?"
-"I have my own reasons ... And maybe I'm tired of that crap"
-"The answer is still no...
I don't believe you Paul."
He smiled without humor and bent down a bit. Then he took out one gun of little caliber from his shoe, and gave it to her.
-"And now?"
Sara opened the loader and could saw that it wasn't anything fishy.
She knew enough about guns, her father used to take her to hunt when she was a little girl, apparently, the good senator believed that nothing could make a little girl happier than to see dead animals.
-"I'm going to tell him everything Paul."
-"Please... Do it"
Sara kept the gun and walked alone until the telephone booth, all under the attempt Paul's look, then she marked the nine numbers that she knew from memory since almost ten months ago, and the phone began to sound at the other side.
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Michael surprised to hear the sound of the telephone at his large and almost empty living room, he was not accustomed thereto.
He dropped off on the sofa the book that he was reading, and picked up the receiver, but Michael delayed a second more than normal before answering.
-"...Yes?"
-"Michael, ...it's Sara."
She could see her breath blurring the phone booth crystal and sighed a moment before saying the next sentence.
-"I don't want to bother you but... I think that I need help."
-"Are you okay?"
His voice sounded low and nervous at thousands kilometers of distance to her, and then Sara wished, more than ever, to have said him "Take me with you" some far night.
-"No... I mean, yes but I have a... situation here."
-"But you are fine?"
-"... More or less."
-"Sara..."
-"I'm fine, but there is someone here, a secret service agent and he..."
-"Has he hurt you?"
-"No... Actually, he has helped me… or something, but he wants you to come here to... to take me with you..."
Sara didn't hear anything for a second at the other side of the line and she got scared, so much, that she thought that he had just hung up, and that she was going to stay there, frozen, dizzy and holding the receiver like a stupid.
-"I'm sorry Michael... maybe I shouldn't have called you..."
-"Please... don' say that"
His voice sounded familiar and warm for the first time since the beginning of their conversation, it was just like all those nights, when she couldn't sleep and he was in her bed, next to her, whispering softly stories under the sheets, about how was his life before he entered Fox River.
Sara could even remember Michael's hot breath upon her hair at the darkness of her room.
-"You want me to come to your place?"
-"No... Michael listen to me, do you remember that story that you told me once, about a lake where the people believed that there is a magical fish, that can concede wishes, and how every full moon night everybody would try to fish for it.
... Do you remember that story Michael?"
Of course he remembered.
Michael had told her about it the first night of insomnia, while he was at her apartment for the first time, and after having made love desperately to her for the first time.
And his voice sounded a bit broken and sad when he spoke again:
-"... Yes... I remember that story."
-"Meet me there... within twelve hours?
-"How about ten?"
-"Ten is fine... Thank you"
-"Sara... are you sure that you are okay?"
-"Actually... I'm not."
Her voice seemed to vanish along the thousands kilometers of the telephone cable.
-"...I'll be there Sara."
-"I know."
To be continued...