"Crossing A Line: Pt. 3" By Liayso, PG
Title: Crossing A Line: Part 3
Author: liayso
Pairing/Characters: Michael/Sara
Category: Het
Rating: PG
Summary: To further their relationship, they have to cross the line that seperates them...Pt.3: Michael wakes up, but he doesn't listen to his mother's advice.
Michael blinked open his eyes to see Sara scribbling away on some paperwork. He smiled slightly. His mother was right; she was right there beside him, looking after him. He watched her for a few seconds until she turned to look at him, catching him staring at her. Michael shut his eyes, trying to feign being asleep, but Sara was already a step by his side.
“Michael, it’s Sara, how are you feeling?”
“Groggy...”
“It’s the anesthesia.”
“Why did I have anesthesia?” He asked in between heavy blinks.
“We had to perform a procedure.”
The previous night’s events suddenly came rushing back at Michael. The hot pipe. Sucre ripping the burnt uniform from his back. Being carried to the infirmary by the C.O.s. And pain. Lots and lots of pain.
But he also remembered Sara and falling asleep to her calming voice.
“You fixed me.” Michael stated.
In a small whisper, she replied, “I tried to.”
“Thank you,” Michael said.
Sara lightly smiled and nodded. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Sara stood up from her kneeling position beside Michael’s bed in time to see C.O. Louis poke his head in.
“Hey Doc, a couple nurses need your help with a patient.”
“All right, I’ll be there in a sec.”
Louis nodded and left. Sara turned to Michael, laying her fingers upon his shoulder, caressing it slightly with her thumb.
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
Michael watched her as she left the room. His shoulder still tingled from her touch. He smiled. His mother was right. Sara was looking out for him and it comforted him knowing that.
“She’s going to ask questions. You have to give her some answers.”
His mother’s voice echoed in his head. When Sara came back, there was no doubt that she would ask about the burn. And he would...
He didn’t know what he would do, how he should respond when she asked.
“Listen to your heart.”
But what was his heart trying to tell him? Michael was unsure. When it came to Sara everything was so clear but also confusing. He couldn’t tell her the truth, but he didn’t want to lie to her anymore.
“Sorry Mom,” Michael whispered to the quiet of the room.
She would be so disappointed in him, but he couldn’t.
He just couldn’t.
Michael let out a sigh and began to move his arms. He was tired of lying down. He wanted to sit up. He placed his palms on the flat of the bed and pushed forward. The muscles in his back and shoulders flexed as he rose, sending waves of pain from his injury throughout his upper body.
“Ahhh!” He winced and gritted his teeth as he tried to gather his bearings. His back hurt so much. And it didn’t help that he was still groggy from the anesthesia.
His dark arms began to quiver and shake from the heavy weight of his upper body pushing down on them. Gravity wasn’t his friend at the moment.
The door opened and in stepped Sara with a grey prison sweater folded neatly in her hand. Her eyes widened at the sight of Michael struggling to sit up. She saw him shake and immediately she dropped the sweater to the floor, rushing to his side.
“Michael!” She took a hold of his shoulders as he began to fall. “Easy. I got you.” She eased him up slowly, helping him into a sitting position on the bed.
Michael felt the pain seep away as Sara held onto him. He lifted his head to look at her and found her face very close to his. She took a sharp intake of breath as his eyes bore into her. He grinned.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Sara said, her breath tickling his face. She smiled back at him, making Michael grin even wider. He leaned in closer, wanting to feel more of her warm breath on his skin... maybe even more...
But Sara stepped back and released the hold she had on Michael’s shoulders. She bit her bottom lip and turned away. Michael lowered his head in disappointment as she walked across the room to retrieve the fallen sweater she dropped. He knew she knew that it was wrong for them to be googly-eyeing each other and he couldn’t blame her for it.
“Here,” she said handing him the piece of clothing, “it’s kind of chilly in here.”
“Not really,” Michael replied as he took the sweater from her. He tried to recapture her eyes with his but she avoided his gaze.
Again she walked away from him, but this time she headed towards the medicine cabinet pulling out a couple of bottles and popping their lids open. Michael sighed and unfolded the sweater. He slid his tattooed arms into the sleeves and tried to pull the sweater on but it hurt to move his shoulders. Sara looked behind her and saw Michael struggling with the sweater. She set down the bottle of painkillers and walked over to him.
Carefully taking the ends of the sweater with her fingers she pulled it down Michael’s back, being mindful of his injury. Michael’s head popped up out of the hole and he grinned up at her.
“Thanks.”
Sara nodded and walked back to the medicine cabinet to pour a couple of pills into a paper cup.
Michael watched her, his eyes never left her back. “You’re always taking care of me.”
Sara looked over her shoulder. “You’re always getting hurt.” She walked to the sink and filled another cup with water. Turning around, she presented them to him. “Painkillers?”
Michael took the water and pills from her. “How bad is it?”
Sara moved to stand across from him and leaned on her desk. “Uh, I’d take the pills.”
“Do I get to see it?”
She shook her head. “No. Bandage stays on for now. Take your pills.”
Michael complied and did as he was told. With the tone Sara was speaking to him in, he knew the inevitable question was going to come up.
“Did your cellmate do this to you?” And there it was.
Michael gulped down the water, trying not to laugh. “Sucre? No.” The mere idea of Sucre hurting him was just ridiculous.
“Who did?” Sara had a stern look on her face and she stared straight at Michael.
“This is the part where I don’t answer you.”
Sara looked down and Michael immediately regretted saying what he did.
“All right. I’ll have you sent back to your cell.” Sara stood up and walked out, just passing the C.O. who would take Michael back to Gen Pop. “He’s all yours.”
Michael sat up and followed the C.O. out of the infirmary. His eyes never left Sara as she picked up the phone and began to make a call.
“She’s given so much to you, Michael, and in return, you’ve given her so little.”
Michael should have listened to his mother.
Author: liayso
Pairing/Characters: Michael/Sara
Category: Het
Rating: PG
Summary: To further their relationship, they have to cross the line that seperates them...Pt.3: Michael wakes up, but he doesn't listen to his mother's advice.
Michael blinked open his eyes to see Sara scribbling away on some paperwork. He smiled slightly. His mother was right; she was right there beside him, looking after him. He watched her for a few seconds until she turned to look at him, catching him staring at her. Michael shut his eyes, trying to feign being asleep, but Sara was already a step by his side.
“Michael, it’s Sara, how are you feeling?”
“Groggy...”
“It’s the anesthesia.”
“Why did I have anesthesia?” He asked in between heavy blinks.
“We had to perform a procedure.”
The previous night’s events suddenly came rushing back at Michael. The hot pipe. Sucre ripping the burnt uniform from his back. Being carried to the infirmary by the C.O.s. And pain. Lots and lots of pain.
But he also remembered Sara and falling asleep to her calming voice.
“You fixed me.” Michael stated.
In a small whisper, she replied, “I tried to.”
“Thank you,” Michael said.
Sara lightly smiled and nodded. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Sara stood up from her kneeling position beside Michael’s bed in time to see C.O. Louis poke his head in.
“Hey Doc, a couple nurses need your help with a patient.”
“All right, I’ll be there in a sec.”
Louis nodded and left. Sara turned to Michael, laying her fingers upon his shoulder, caressing it slightly with her thumb.
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
Michael watched her as she left the room. His shoulder still tingled from her touch. He smiled. His mother was right. Sara was looking out for him and it comforted him knowing that.
“She’s going to ask questions. You have to give her some answers.”
His mother’s voice echoed in his head. When Sara came back, there was no doubt that she would ask about the burn. And he would...
He didn’t know what he would do, how he should respond when she asked.
“Listen to your heart.”
But what was his heart trying to tell him? Michael was unsure. When it came to Sara everything was so clear but also confusing. He couldn’t tell her the truth, but he didn’t want to lie to her anymore.
“Sorry Mom,” Michael whispered to the quiet of the room.
She would be so disappointed in him, but he couldn’t.
He just couldn’t.
Michael let out a sigh and began to move his arms. He was tired of lying down. He wanted to sit up. He placed his palms on the flat of the bed and pushed forward. The muscles in his back and shoulders flexed as he rose, sending waves of pain from his injury throughout his upper body.
“Ahhh!” He winced and gritted his teeth as he tried to gather his bearings. His back hurt so much. And it didn’t help that he was still groggy from the anesthesia.
His dark arms began to quiver and shake from the heavy weight of his upper body pushing down on them. Gravity wasn’t his friend at the moment.
The door opened and in stepped Sara with a grey prison sweater folded neatly in her hand. Her eyes widened at the sight of Michael struggling to sit up. She saw him shake and immediately she dropped the sweater to the floor, rushing to his side.
“Michael!” She took a hold of his shoulders as he began to fall. “Easy. I got you.” She eased him up slowly, helping him into a sitting position on the bed.
Michael felt the pain seep away as Sara held onto him. He lifted his head to look at her and found her face very close to his. She took a sharp intake of breath as his eyes bore into her. He grinned.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Sara said, her breath tickling his face. She smiled back at him, making Michael grin even wider. He leaned in closer, wanting to feel more of her warm breath on his skin... maybe even more...
But Sara stepped back and released the hold she had on Michael’s shoulders. She bit her bottom lip and turned away. Michael lowered his head in disappointment as she walked across the room to retrieve the fallen sweater she dropped. He knew she knew that it was wrong for them to be googly-eyeing each other and he couldn’t blame her for it.
“Here,” she said handing him the piece of clothing, “it’s kind of chilly in here.”
“Not really,” Michael replied as he took the sweater from her. He tried to recapture her eyes with his but she avoided his gaze.
Again she walked away from him, but this time she headed towards the medicine cabinet pulling out a couple of bottles and popping their lids open. Michael sighed and unfolded the sweater. He slid his tattooed arms into the sleeves and tried to pull the sweater on but it hurt to move his shoulders. Sara looked behind her and saw Michael struggling with the sweater. She set down the bottle of painkillers and walked over to him.
Carefully taking the ends of the sweater with her fingers she pulled it down Michael’s back, being mindful of his injury. Michael’s head popped up out of the hole and he grinned up at her.
“Thanks.”
Sara nodded and walked back to the medicine cabinet to pour a couple of pills into a paper cup.
Michael watched her, his eyes never left her back. “You’re always taking care of me.”
Sara looked over her shoulder. “You’re always getting hurt.” She walked to the sink and filled another cup with water. Turning around, she presented them to him. “Painkillers?”
Michael took the water and pills from her. “How bad is it?”
Sara moved to stand across from him and leaned on her desk. “Uh, I’d take the pills.”
“Do I get to see it?”
She shook her head. “No. Bandage stays on for now. Take your pills.”
Michael complied and did as he was told. With the tone Sara was speaking to him in, he knew the inevitable question was going to come up.
“Did your cellmate do this to you?” And there it was.
Michael gulped down the water, trying not to laugh. “Sucre? No.” The mere idea of Sucre hurting him was just ridiculous.
“Who did?” Sara had a stern look on her face and she stared straight at Michael.
“This is the part where I don’t answer you.”
Sara looked down and Michael immediately regretted saying what he did.
“All right. I’ll have you sent back to your cell.” Sara stood up and walked out, just passing the C.O. who would take Michael back to Gen Pop. “He’s all yours.”
Michael sat up and followed the C.O. out of the infirmary. His eyes never left Sara as she picked up the phone and began to make a call.
“She’s given so much to you, Michael, and in return, you’ve given her so little.”
Michael should have listened to his mother.