AN: Hi guys! 1st of all, thanks for all the comments, faves & follows, much appreciated !. Second of all, sorry for the long delay in the updates. The thing is, I have found a new job and this job required moving to another country :) So i have been quite busy with all these new things. But now I am relatively settled in and I've missed Michael and Sara a lot, so here I am, back at it. Hope you enjoy. Forgive me for any mistakes/typos as I'm only from mobile here and it's not very convenient.

To say the post op rehab was not a peace of cake, was a big understatement. It was a peace of hell. Physically and emotionally. He was driving himself, his brother and his nurses nuts. The few hours per day when he had enough energy to stay awake and focused, he would terrorise his brother with questions, trying to find out if his memory failed him in any way. He could speak, he could read, he could remember his family members and pretty much all of his life. But what if he forgot something? What if some part of the memories was missing and he wasn't realizing it just yet? So the questioning went on and on. Lincoln would demonastrate an uncharacteristically infinite amount of patience until Michael exhausted himself and fell back asleep, and then he would shake his head and groan, rubbing his face with both hands. He was beyond happy his younger brother's surgery went well and he showed all signs of recovering nicely, but dear lord, could Michael give himself peace and just take it easy for once in his lifetime? No, ofcourse not. Which was actually a good sign, it meant Michael was his usual self and the surgery didn't have any critical affects on him after all. This thought was very calming amd helpful. Until one day (day 12 to be exact) when Michael was still at the hospital, he started the conversation with the following confession:
- You know, last night I was awake and tried to think about that Alehmann project I started before...
Lincoln groaned as hard as he could and slapped a hand to his forehead:
- What the hell, Michael, which project, don't even start!
Michael barely acknowledged his brother's reaction with a blink and continued, looking into the ceiling:
- So, I've tried to concentrate and think of it, come up with at least something.. I mean, I remember what that project is about and I remember where I stopped when I was forced to abandon work.. But I can't think of the project itself, you get what I mean? My brain just doesn't work.
- Shut up, man, - Linc tried to interfere again, but Michael was really intent to finish his thought.
- I try to think how that first floor security system could work out best and I just can't.
He finally looked at his brother and Lincoln didn't hesitate to give him feedback:
- Seriously, Michael? You're fresh out of surgery, and you expect some new genius ideas of yours to overflow your brain? Are you even serious? Thinking about work and those damn projects now?
Michael didn't let his tone bother him and replied in an undeterred manner:
- But I can't think.. I can't procees things, you know? What if I'm useless to my job now?
- You're not useless, you're just dumb. Dumb for thinking it's a good time to start exhausting your brain with projects. Just get some rest for now, you will be okay.
Lincoln's angered tone changed into helpless, almost begging. Michael was looking back at him with his brow furrowed and Lincoln could tell he was still trying to concentrate on something. He sighed defeatedly and got up:
- I will go find your doc and have him talk to you.

After the doctor talked to Michael and reassured him everything was going good and he was doing very well, concidering, and the afteraffects of surgery can be various and multiple but they will pass, with time and therapy. He just had to be patient and concentrate on nothing other than his recovery and rest. Linc could tell Michael still felt doubtful but the talk had exhausted him and Lincoln felt relieved when his brother closed his eyes and fell asleep immediately.
He slept for about 3 uninterrupted hours until the nurse came in with his meds.
Michael opened his eyes slowly and watched the nurse and her manipulations hazily. She informed him that she would come later to change the bandage on his head and he winced. She almost turned away to leave when Michel opened his dry mouth and asked:
- Hey.. When is my doctor coming back?
She turned back to face him.
- Doctor White? He's -
- No, not him. My original doctor. Doctor Tancredi.
The way he pronounced her name made Linc look at him quizzically. He almost forgot Michael used to have another doctor. But, apparently, Michael didn't.
- Doctor Tancredi is on personal leave, Mister Scofield. I believe Doctor White is your Doctor from now on.
Michael didn't say anything else and the nurse left. Lincoln shrugged and poured some water into the glass, adjusted the bed so Michael was in halfseated pisition and watched him drink. He was about to ask how he was feeling when Michel addressed him:
- Can you do me a favour. Go and ask about her. See if you can find out anything. Where is she, is she coming back.. how can I contact her.. Anything.
Lincoln opened his mouthed then closed it, and opened again.
- Why? Why is it important to you? Now, in your current state?
Beacuse it was important, wasn't it? If it was something that bothered his brother fresh in the rehab after brain surgery.. Lincoln couldn't decide if it was a good or bad thing. He remembered people. Places. Circumstances. Good. But why this doctor? Maybe Michael's memory was playing some tricks with him? She was just his doctor for a couple of weeks. Or? Lincoln rubbed his chin and opened his mouth again:
- Is there.. Are you?..
- Just please do what I asked, - Michael insisted.
Lincoln sighed and nodded, because his brother seemed to become agitated and it was not something he needed right now.
- Okay, okay, I will. I promise. Just, just lie down and rest, alright?
He lowered the bed back into horisontal position and looked at Michael expectantly, wanting for him to close his eyes and fall asleep again. Instead, Michael looked back at him with some expectations of his own as if saying "Why are you still here?". Linc sighed and headed to the door to try and fulfill his request.
When he came back, Michael's eyes were closed and he looked like he was sleeping but as soon as Lincoln approached the bed to sit on his chair, Michael turned his head to him and opened his eyes, asking quietly:
- So?
He looked and sounded exhausted and Lincoln just wished he would get some rest.
- Sorry, man, they pretty much repeated what the nurse said, - she took a personal unpaid leave and they don't know when she will be back.
Michael sighed and closed his eyes for a long moment.
- No contacts?
Of course he knew noone would give him her personal phone number or address, but at least something? An e-mail? Any hint about where he could find her? If only he wasn't stuck in this hospital bed with his head freshly split open. He would have been able to find a way to check on her. He sighed frustratedly and almost immediately had to squeeze his eyes against a painful tug at the back of his head.
This didn't escape his brother's watchful eye and had him step closer and ask worriedly if he needed more pain meds or anything but Michael promised he was fine.
- You need to rest.. Give your body the chance to take care of itself . Everything else will come later.
Michael wanted to say something else but in the end just closed his eyes with a slight nod and Lincold sat down in the chair and watched his face, hoping he would fall asleep soon.

Few more weeks passed, and Michael's rehab was going well, every day he was gaining a little more energy than yesterday and the progess in his recovery was consistant. Though it was a hard work for everyone involved, Michael was finally cooperating and it was the most important basic of success. He was following all the recommendations and went to all the therapy sessions, both occupational and neurological ones. To Lincoln it looked like his brother finally turned his stubbornness into the right direction and it was doing him a lot of good. It still was not easy, as at times Michael got frustrated and angry with himself and his body and the long way to recovery, but it was only common and unavoidable in his situation.
It's been over a month now and Michael didn't remember much of the operation day or the next 24 hours in the ICU. He still felt weak and tired but like the voice from the pre-sutgery life told him, he concentrated on marching on, step by step, day by day. He would have probably been depressed about not being able to go back to work for another..month? Two? Noone could tell. But he just didn't have the energy for anything other than basic tasks like eating, talking, taking some short walks and trips to the hospital for therapy/tests. After those he usually slept for hours. Though each day the walk would last a little longer and he would stay up after dinner a little longer to talk to his brother or nephew, depending on who was keeping him company and taking care of him. Gradually he became fit enough to take a cab to the hospital and back instead of being driven and accompanied by his brother all the times. It would still take long before he'd be able to drive. The scar still looked kind of fresh and ugly to him, and his habit of having his hair shorn didn't help hiding it. At least it was winter, so he got to wear a hat.
As the second month was nearing its end, imperceptibly, his mind was becoming more and more capable to be occupied with other things, not only his recovery.
He found himself in the hospital again, having just finished talking to his doc and reciting the good news in his head, that everything was going well, there were no signs of any tumor cells left in his brain and his mental and physical state was more than satisfying. Feeling light and encouraged he approached the receptionist's counter when he noticed a familiar face. It was the nurse who used to work with Sara. He struggled to remember her name, as he couldn't see her badge from where he was standing, but he was sure it was her.
He reached the counter and addressed the woman behind it, asking about Doctor Tancredi again. He was told (again) that she wasn't there and they had no information regarding her that they were willing to give. He looked at the woman's indiffetent face and asked a bit desparately:
- Is she alright?
The woman looked at him as if he was delirious and repeated what she said before. Michael sighed and looked at Katie (right, her name was Katie! He remembered out of the blue). He could tell she heard all the conversation by the way she avoided his gaze. He thought to come closer and talk to her but she grabbed some files and rushed away. He watched her leave so abruptly and cursed himself for not having asked Sara's phone number, address, anything, when he had the chance back at the coffee shop.
He came home and instead of lying down as he usually did, he went to his office and closed the door. Which immediately cought his brother's attention and he followed inside, finding Michael tapping away on his laptop.
- What are you doing? - he asked cautiously, hoping Michael wasn't going to try and do some work for his engeneering company.
- Some research. Don't worry, it's not work related.
He pressed a few more keys and Lincoln watched him sit back and rub his forehead thoughtfully. The curiousity got the better of him and he stepped forward and looked at the screen. Taking a quick glance at the open tab he asked incredulosly:
- Seriously, Michael? You did't let go? What is it about this doctor that you can't get her out if your mind?
- No, wait, Linc, you don't understand.
Obviously, he didn't. Michael looked through some articles and finally uttered:
- This is why her name seemed familiar. Remember Frank Tancredi, who was running for the governor position, until he withdrew his candidacy due to some family circumstances..
Lincoln was looking at him, puzzled, whereas Michael's face was alight with some kind of emotion he couldn't quite define.
- And? Why does it matter?
- Maybe it doesn't, - Michael replied absently.
- Then what is so important about this girl? Why can't you let her go?
- Because I am worried about her. She might be in trouble. And I can't find her.
Lincoln looked at his brother, who was staring at the screen with his brow furrowed, and he could officially announce, that Michael was back, the pre-surgery Michael, persistant, dedicated and selfless, unable to step back and ignore other person's struggle.. Lincoln kept looking at his concerned face and could feel a wave of warmth and affection towards his brother, and gratitude that he was doing fine after such a complicated health condition and surgery. He just hoped the girl appreciated his brother's efforts, because he had no doubt Michael would find her.

Oh he will, and soon! ;)