PB Fic (1/1)
Author: muldy
Title: Thank You
Pairing: Michael/Sara
Spoilers: 1x13
Word count: 644 words
Rating: G
Summary: Once he left the prison that was it. The walls of Fox River, of that infirmary, were all that bound them together - the single string that when unravelled would be impossible to tie back together.
“I’m sorry about your brother.”
As she spoke he realised what she was telling him, the same thing that he had been trying to say to her moments earlier. It wasn’t all just meaningless, their flirting or whatever it was, it had meant something. Somehow she seemed to understand that this was, in some way or other, a sort of goodbye, and he wondered exactly how well she saw through him.
It was looking into her eyes after that moment that he realised she was the kind of woman he could love. The one he would want to have around him all the time, to do stupid things with, or to just sit quietly in a Starbucks and talk.
And his words from a few moments earlier seemed to become even more meaningful. If things had been different…
But they weren’t. This was it, and a part of him wondered if this was the last time he would ever see her. Once he left the prison that was it. The walls of Fox River, of that infirmary, were all that bound them together - the single string that when unravelled would be impossible to tie back together.
He saw it all slip away from him in an instant.
She hadn’t been part of his plan, not directly. He had needed the infirmary, but he hadn’t needed her. Yet she was what he got up for in the morning, the first thing that came to his mind. Even when she was angry at him for some reason or other he looked forward to their five minutes alone in the cramped room.
And each day he walked into the room and checked for the single origami rose, the one piece of colour in a sterile room. To him that origami rose signified what the woman standing in front of him was; hope.
If he could break himself into prison and meet her there - a stark contrast to everything around him - then anything was possible. Including escaping that night.
She turned to leave and he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye yet.
He reached out and touched her arm, calling her by ‘Doctor’. She turned around and looked back at him as he gently took her hand in his, watching carefully for any sign that she was about to pull away.
She didn’t.
She did nothing to resist him. This, whatever it was, this wasn’t the meaningless thing she pretended it was either. It had just been a matter of weeks since they had met, but it was enough.
It saddened him to know that this would be it. This was his last moment with her.
When he raised his eyes hers were focused on their hands, confusion written all over her face. She understood less than him, she somehow knew this was goodbye but she couldn’t know why. He wanted to tell her, to explain how he was getting his brother out of there that night, but he couldn’t.
And it hurt him to know that when he left she would figure out his plan, she would know the infirmary had been part of it - and he knew she would assume he was playing her all along. He wanted her to know that he wasn’t, he wanted her to just understand how sorry he was. Sorry that he was a con and she was his doctor, that he had used her, and that he was leaving so soon.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
And he left, unable to sit there any longer and pretend like everything was OK, like this wasn’t the last time he would ever see her. He felt her hand slip out of his as he moved around her and he fought the urge to say one last goodbye.
He knew she wouldn’t understand yet, but she would. One day.
Title: Thank You
Pairing: Michael/Sara
Spoilers: 1x13
Word count: 644 words
Rating: G
Summary: Once he left the prison that was it. The walls of Fox River, of that infirmary, were all that bound them together - the single string that when unravelled would be impossible to tie back together.
“I’m sorry about your brother.”
As she spoke he realised what she was telling him, the same thing that he had been trying to say to her moments earlier. It wasn’t all just meaningless, their flirting or whatever it was, it had meant something. Somehow she seemed to understand that this was, in some way or other, a sort of goodbye, and he wondered exactly how well she saw through him.
It was looking into her eyes after that moment that he realised she was the kind of woman he could love. The one he would want to have around him all the time, to do stupid things with, or to just sit quietly in a Starbucks and talk.
And his words from a few moments earlier seemed to become even more meaningful. If things had been different…
But they weren’t. This was it, and a part of him wondered if this was the last time he would ever see her. Once he left the prison that was it. The walls of Fox River, of that infirmary, were all that bound them together - the single string that when unravelled would be impossible to tie back together.
He saw it all slip away from him in an instant.
She hadn’t been part of his plan, not directly. He had needed the infirmary, but he hadn’t needed her. Yet she was what he got up for in the morning, the first thing that came to his mind. Even when she was angry at him for some reason or other he looked forward to their five minutes alone in the cramped room.
And each day he walked into the room and checked for the single origami rose, the one piece of colour in a sterile room. To him that origami rose signified what the woman standing in front of him was; hope.
If he could break himself into prison and meet her there - a stark contrast to everything around him - then anything was possible. Including escaping that night.
She turned to leave and he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye yet.
He reached out and touched her arm, calling her by ‘Doctor’. She turned around and looked back at him as he gently took her hand in his, watching carefully for any sign that she was about to pull away.
She didn’t.
She did nothing to resist him. This, whatever it was, this wasn’t the meaningless thing she pretended it was either. It had just been a matter of weeks since they had met, but it was enough.
It saddened him to know that this would be it. This was his last moment with her.
When he raised his eyes hers were focused on their hands, confusion written all over her face. She understood less than him, she somehow knew this was goodbye but she couldn’t know why. He wanted to tell her, to explain how he was getting his brother out of there that night, but he couldn’t.
And it hurt him to know that when he left she would figure out his plan, she would know the infirmary had been part of it - and he knew she would assume he was playing her all along. He wanted her to know that he wasn’t, he wanted her to just understand how sorry he was. Sorry that he was a con and she was his doctor, that he had used her, and that he was leaving so soon.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
And he left, unable to sit there any longer and pretend like everything was OK, like this wasn’t the last time he would ever see her. He felt her hand slip out of his as he moved around her and he fought the urge to say one last goodbye.
He knew she wouldn’t understand yet, but she would. One day.