A/N: This chapter may be surprising to you, and I am not sure how you guys will feel about it. I'm a little nervous for your reactions to this, and I really hope you like it. Also, special thanks to idougahole for my first PM! It really gave me the motivation I needed to get out this chapter! Anyway, enjoy!

Ch.22: Awkward.

"Hey John. I'm Michael, Sara's husband."

John dropped Michael's hand and his own John simultaneously. He took a step back, stunned. Her husband? He's supposed to be dead! This ruins everything. He was angry and shocked. Sara was supposed to be his girl now. John had liked her from the moment he saw her because let's be honest, she's pretty easy on the eyes. Once she finally agreed to talk to him, he had to find some way, any way, to connect with her. He was desperate to find a connection with the pretty, new doctor.

So he lied. He listened to her talk about her dead husband, and he lied. He made up the death of his mother. Sure, his mom was dead. That part wasn't a lie. The lie was that when she died, John was not sad. He thought that his mom was a crazy, old, bat and was somewhat relieved when he didn't have to put up with her anymore. But as Sara went on and on about Michael, John knew the only way to get her mind off of her husband was to make up a story. He had to create empathy.

So he lied. And it worked.

"John," he heard Sara call softly. For a moment, John was hopeful that she would say that her husband coming back from the dead didn't mean anything; that even though Michael was back, she still wanted to be with him. She did take her wedding ring off after all.

However the next words out of Sara's mouth shocked him deeply.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"What?" John asked in disbelief. He couldn't believe she would choose to be with this tool over her. "What are you sorry for? The fact that your ex came crawling back to you?"

"I'm sorry for leading you on in a relationship that I knew wouldn't work. I'm sorry for inviting you to dinner today and giving you false hope that we could ever be anything more than friends. I'm sorry for how uncomfortable this moment must be to you," she said as she could feel her blood boiling. She could not believe how irrational John was being. Maybe her initial instinct about him was right. Maybe he really was a jerk.

"But no. I am not sorry that my husband, the absolute love of my life, miraculously came back from the dead," Sara said standing her ground. "That is something I will never apologize for."

"We are supposed to be together, Sara. He already had his chance and he left you behind. I know you say it was because he was trying to save you, but he left you behind. His chance is over. It's my turn. I am determined to be the guy for you and I'll be damned if I let some punk come in and try to steal you from me!" John said, outraged by the fact that Sara would actually consider not giving them a chance because of her precious Michael.

Michael's fists clenched at his sides. He couldn't stand by and watch Sara be disrespected like this, but he also knew it wasn't his place to step in yet. If things got out of hand, he would intervene in a heartbeat. But for now, he bit his tongue and distracted himself by memorizing every feature on his son's face.

"I can't believe you're acting life this. I thought you of all people would understand this! I know that you are upset because maybe in another world we could have had something, but we can't and I am truly sorry for hurting you. Michael has my heart. He always has and he always will. And I am so thankful that I got to meet you and you were vulnerable enough to share your loss with me, but I love Michael. I am so lucky to have him back with me, and I don't want to waste any time in a relationship that I don't see going anywhere. And I'm sorry for that. But imagine if you were in my place. Would you be able to walk away from your mom if she came back to life?" Sara asked. She hoped she was getting through to John. She really wanted to try to salvage their friendship.

"Oh would you stop with the compassion act already?!" John erupted.

"What are you talking about?" Sara asked.

"I made it all up. I have liked you, or at least liked looking at you, since the moment you started working at Miami Pres. I wanted to take you out and have a little fun, but you wouldn't have it. You were so guarded, and I couldn't figure out why. And then one day, I caught you when you were down. I asked you what was wrong, and you told me everything. And as I listened to you drone on and on and on about your poor husband and how much you love him and yadda yadda yadda, I made up this story in my head. I made it up so you would feel compassionate for me. I made it up so we would have a connection. Yes, my mother is in fact dead. But the difference between you and me is that I would not drop everything and everyone if she came back to life because the fact of the matter is that she was a crazy bitch! So no. I don't understand why you are willing to just take him back when he pleases."

And that is when Sara had enough. She walked over to John and slapped him across the face. He recoiled and turned back to face her, a look of complete fury on his face. He couldn't believe that she had the nerve to slap him after she was in the wrong!

And that's when things got interesting. And violent.

"How are you even sure he was really "dead?" How are you so sure that he wasn't just messing around with other girls, but then got tired of the player life and decided to come home? Huh?"

Just as Sara was about to lose it, Lincoln stepped in.

"I am not even going to reward that with a response. You have no idea what you are talking about and you have no right to come into my sister's house, where you are still a guest, and be so disrespectful. You do not know my brother, and if you did you would understand that family comes before anything. It always has and it always will. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is more important to my brother than family, and there is no way in hell that he would willingly abandon his wife—his pregnant wife. I am sure he fought tooth and nail to get back to them—to us. So if you are done insulting my family and throwing outrageous accusations, you can kindly leave now," Lincoln demanded. He glared at John. He couldn't believe how selfish he was being. This should be the happiest day of Sara and Michael's lives, but instead John was ruining it, and Lincoln would simply have no more of that.

"No," John responded nonchalantly.

"I'm sorry, no?" Lincoln asked incredulously.

"You heard me," John reiterated. "No. I am not leaving until Sara asks me to. This is her house, and I am here on her invitation and will therefore not leave until the hostess has asked me to do so."

Michael's short fuse was about to burn out. He wanted nothing more than to walk over to John and rip his throat out for all of the things he had put Sara through—all of the lies, all of the pain. But he knew that would not help the situation, so he instead chose to stay in the background. He knew John would be out of their hair soon enough if his brother had anything to say about it. So instead of kicking John's ass, Michael distracted himself with his son once again. He would never get tired of admiring the beautiful life that he and Sara created.

"Well Sara? If you want me to go, all you have to do is ask," John said in a voice that made Sara's skin crawl.

She approached John and began to speak her mind.

"Listen, John, and listen good. I thought that we could still be friends even if we couldn't be anything more than that. I tried to be the bigger person. I tried to extend an olive branch to you. I wanted to be friends. I wanted to move past this. Wanted—past tense. After everything that I have heard from you today, any and all chance of friendship between us has been lost. I cannot believe how incredibly selfish you are being; how irrational you have behaved. And the lying? It really isn't becoming, John. But thank you. Thank you for showing me that I was not ready to move on. Thank you for showing me that I should wait until I'm ready, because who knows what I would have done without you helping me make that decision. You know when I decided I wasn't ready to date again? When my sitter called me yesterday and cancelled on me. I felt relieved that I wouldn't have to go on that date. Relieved. I only invited you here today because I pitied you John; I really did. But not anymore because now I know that you the lying snake that I thought you were when I first met you. So thank you John for showing me how much I didn't want to date yet, and how much of a man my husband is compared to you," Sara finished with a glare. She turned around ready to walk back to kiss her husband, and that's when he snapped.

Before Sara could even take a step, John lunged for her. He had her pressed against the kitchen wall with his forearm crushing her windpipe. Sara gasped as she tried to gulp in fresh air that her lungs so desperately craved, but were unable to find. She flailed her arms around searching for something—anything—that would help her fight John off.

Michael could no longer sit back and watch the moment he saw John's hands on his wife. He leaped into action, handing his son off to Sophia and heading for John. He pulled John off of Sara by his collar and punched him, hard. Sara collapsed to the ground, gasping for air; searching for anything to soothe her lungs that cried out in pain. John stumbled back and went to swing for Michael. However on his back swing, his arm was caught by Sucre and he was wrestled to the ground. Lincoln, Sucre and Mahone then "kindly" escorted John out of Sara's house.

Michael made his way over to Sara's spot on the ground and sat down next to her. He pulled her into his lap and stroked her hair in an attempt to calm her down.

"Shhh," he soothed as he rubbed her back. "I've got you. You're safe. He's not going to hurt you anymore. Just breathe." He repeated these phrases of comfort until Sara's breathing finally returned to normal. He wiped the tears from her cheeks and placed a kiss on one cheek, and then the other, before kissing her nose, and then her lips.

"Better?" he asked.

"Better," she assured him before pecking him on the lips and moving to stand up. She offered Michael and hand and pulled him up too. Michael brushed the hair out of face and frowned when he noticed a bruise forming from where John's arm was.

He brushed it with his fingers, and Sara winced slightly.

"I'm sorry. I knew he was getting out of control. I should have stopped him sooner. This never should have happened," Michael said.

"Hey," Sara said calling his attention from the floor where his eyes were glued. She cupped his face with both of her hands. "Don't do that," she said. "Don't blame yourself. I shouldn't have invited him into our home. I should have known he was the same ass he was on the day I met him. Besides, I kind of provoked him."

Before Michael could respond Sophia appeared with Mikey in her arms.

"Mama!" he cried out reaching for her.

Sara immediately turned to her son and grabbed him from Sophia's arms. She was thankful that Sophia had the sense to take her son out of the room once John started to get violent. He didn't need to see that.

"Hello my baby boy," Sara said kissing his chubby cheek. "Did you have fun with Aunt Sophia?"

"Daddy!" Mikey responded eagerly.

"Hey buddy," Michael greeted reaching for his son. Sara happily handed of their son into the arms of his father. She smiled at the scene in front of her. She couldn't believe the events that had transpired today. She couldn't believe that her boys were finally back together.

Hours later, the house was quiet, the guests were gone, Mikey was down for the night, and Michael was getting ready to take a shower. Sara was in the kitchen cleaning up the leftover chaos from their Thanksgiving extravaganza.

Michael stepped under the warm spray of the shower and instantly relaxed. He felt like this was the first warm shower he had taken in decades. He felt that he was finally given the chance to wash away all of the pain and trouble he had been through over the course of the past two years.

Michael's trance was broken by the feeling of two arms around his torso and a soft kiss to the back of his shoulder blade. He turned in her embrace and saw his wife—his beautiful, naked wife—standing before him. He smiled at her and leaned down to place a kiss on her lips. While the kiss was meant to be chaste and sweet, Sara couldn't help herself. She kissed him back hungrily, pulling him as close as possible to her body. She wanted him—needed him—and she knew he wanted her too; she could feel how much he wanted her.

Maybe it was wrong for their first time in two years to be shower sex, but in that moment it didn't matter. In that moment, nothing mattered except for that they were back in each other's arms, united as one.

Twenty minutes later, Michael and Sara were lying in bed; Sara resting comfortably in Michael's arms. She rolled over to face him, and he smiled and brushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. He frowned when he saw the nasty bruise on her throat resulting from John's earlier violent outburst.

Knowing what he was looking at, Sara instantly pulled his eyes up to meet hers.

"Stop that," she said softly.

"Stop what?"

"Stop blaming yourself for what happened. John was out of control, and I shouldn't have invited him into our home. So stop blaming yourself for something that was out of your control, okay?" Sara softly commanded.

"Okay," Michael conceded.

"Okay?" she questioned in disbelief.

"Okay," he said kissing her on the forehead.

"Good," Sara said contentedly. "Besides, the scars on my back are starting to fade. I needed to add a little color back onto my body. Gotta keep it interesting. Gotta keep myself looking tough if you know what I mean," she joked lightheartedly.

Michael's arms instantly tensed around her.

"I'm kidding," she said. "Lighten up," she said hitting his chest playfully.

"Too soon. Way too soon," Michael said kissing her forehead.

"So I know we decided that you would tell us all the story of your miraculous return from the dead tomorrow, but—" Sara began before Michael interrupted her.

"Can we not talk about that tonight?" Michael asked. Once John had been escorted out of Sara's house, the gang had agreed that today was about celebrating Michael's miraculous return and the company of each other. Today was about joy and family. Tomorrow there would be time for explanation. Tomorrow they could go back to sorrow and pain, but today was strictly reserved for joy.

"I'm sorry," Michael sighed. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I just—I've missed you…so much. And tonight I don't want to relive what was the worst two years of my life. Tonight, I just want to hold you and enjoy you. Breathe you in, and maybe, I don't know, get a little lucky if you know what I mean," he hinted as Sara laughed. "So tomorrow," Michael sobered, "I promise I will give you every gory detail about my time away and I will tell you every last thing, but tonight just let me be with you."

Sara's response was a kiss on Michael's lips before resettling into his arms. And she let him hold her. She let him hold her to heal not only his emotional wounds, but some wounds of her own.

"I love you," she said. She could never say it enough.

"I love you, too."

And with that, the longest and most eventful day of their lives came to an end, as they peacefully fell asleep in each other's arms.

A/N: So I hope you enjoyed chapter 22. I know John's character may seem a little shocking to you, but I wanted to tie up any and all loose ends. So that is the last you will see of John. Let me know what you thought of this chapter with a review! XOXO