Life, Love & The Forbidden

Should Have Means Nothing

Michael's dorm was dark and cold. As he stepped into the unlocked house he figured the rest of his dorm mates were at the party. His jaw clenched at the thought of what had just happened and how it had happened. He should of known about the party. He should have been there. He should have stopped this from happening.

Michael never let go of Sara until he reached his room. The door was unlocked, a sign of his trusting and foolish nature. He struggled to push the handle downwards, freeing the latch from its hole in the frame. The door creaked open, swinging loosely on the frame to reveal the unmarked stairwell. Michael navigated the stairs in the darkness, placing each step lightly to the wooden steps so as not to wake Sara in his arms.

He had already decided the couch was not worthy of Sara and headed straight to him bedroom. Sara was motionless in his arms but the gentle rise and fall of her chest indicated her steady breathing. Michael leant carefully to one side at the edge of his bed, positioning Sara in his arms so that she was lying with her head over his shoulder like a baby. With one swipe, he threw back his masculine blue covers and gently set her down.

Sara stirred gently in protest as Michael pulled his arms free from her body. She shivered a little before he pulled the comforter back over her, covering her entire body up to her neck. A small groan escaped her lips as she turned over and Michael could swear she had called for him. Leaving her was the hardest thing he could ever of done under the circumstances but he had to call someone. He should call her father.

Michael backed out of the room, never taking his eyes from her tired form snoring softly in his bed. He pulled the two wide sliding doors together, each rattling across the runner as sound ricocheted through his room. Michael pulled his face into a winch as they moved, shooting a glance through the gap between the doors as it grew smaller, making sure she was not disturbed.

Michael rubbed his hands nervously on his thighs as he stared at the telephone numbers scrawled onto a piece of paper before him. It was the piece of paper Frank Tancredi had given him that day they collided in the street. It was a direct link to Governor Tancredi. Michael exhaled hard. What should he say? How should he say it? A part of Michael blamed himself for Sara's ordeal. He should have been there.

Michael coughed quietly and reached for the cordless phone that sat on his kitchenette counter. He dialled the number on the piece on the piece of paper and froze. His finger hovered above the green button that would call the Governor. He took in one last breath and pressed down. Pressing the phone to his ear he grew more anxious with every ring.

A click signified the call connecting. "Governor Tancredi's office, how may I help you?" a tired woman's voice droned down the line.

"Hi, uh, is the Governor free? It's urgent," Michael whispered, shooting a glance at the bedroom doors as he paced the tiled floor.

"May I ask who is calling and the purpose of your call?" the woman was typing and Michael could hear the tapping of her keyboard as she furiously attacked the keys.

"Yeah, it's Michael Scofield," he began, scratching the back of his neck. "It's regarding his daughter," he finished.

"Please hold," the robotesque woman said before her voice was replaced by intermittent beeping. Michael crept to his bedroom door and pulling one open to see Sara. She was lying with her legs tucked up against herself in the foetal position and her face twitched with dream activity.

The beeping stopped and the woman returned to the line. "Please hold for Governor Tancredi," she droned and the line clicked again.

"Tancredi," Frank's voice sounded annoyed and the sound of music filled the background. Michael heard glasses clink together and people laughing. He figured it was another fund raiser or Governor's ball that Sara was never invited too. Michael cleared his through before speaking again.