Exonerated. After finally being free and having a small wedding on the beach, Michael and Sara decided to go back to Chicago and start a normal life. No running, no guns...But also no sailing away, no running away like criminals, no deserted beach with white sand and palm trees, no fantaisies as such. Michael and Sara had wanted something more real. They had wanted to have the luxury they never had, of leading a simple mundane life back in their home city. And after the few days of wedding bliss faded off, they both knew that's what they wanted from life.

A normal, simple, maybe boring life to others, but the world to them. Sara had wanted them to start afresh, reminding Michael of the filet mignon he still owed her and her husband had found happiness in not having to worry and giving his full time to his beautiful wife. They had truly started afresh with their relationship, getting to know each other more, favorite dishes and colors. It felt as if they just started dating, which was ironic since they were newly wed but felt so nice to them.

They had the chance to live their relationship maybe how they would have started it, in another life, if there was no Fox River. Just Michael the engineer and Sara the doctor, maybe meeting at a coffee shop, bumping into each other in the street or in a market...The slate was wiped clean, and they enjoyed their love and took their time, now that they finally had it in hands. Monsters of the past were there for both, deep inside, but they so happy and joyous in the bliss of being together and safe and have their whole life ahead of them that they often forgot the past, for the present was so precious to them.

They bought a small apartment in the centre of Chicago, both having always lived in the city and working there. Michael found a job, it was less paid for than the previous one and he had to work harder, but doing his job seemed so easy compared to the plans he'd been making for the past months. To her pure joy, Sara was granted her medical licence back and had found a jon at Northwestern, she couldn't be happier. Both had taken the time to find themselves again, their profession and their devotion for their respective works, parts of their identities, the ones they had been forced to left behind.

Living together had implied to get to know their habbits too, small and mundane things that meant so much to the couple that had craved for it. The appartement was the right amount of elegant and modern, they had an open kitchen with a wife living room giving on the city's rower with it's glace facade. And two bedrooms, one for them, one for rhe baby. They didn't want too big or lavish, just cosy enough, any guest such as Lincoln could always sleep on the sofa-bed of the living room.

Michael found out Sara really meant it when she described herself as messy. Her shoes were often near the entrance when She would always pile her clothes on a chair, or throw them on it as Michael thought and wait for the end of the week to send that huge pile to laundry. Michael had found that ridiculous, untidy and not proper. But eventually, seeing her clothes of the day piled on that chair as she left before he was home for a night shift, or seeing her scrubs piled there before he found her exhausted sleeping form on the sofa brought a smile to his lips. It made him frown at first how he found her eating cereals for dinner on the coffee table in front of the TV.

'Meals are done on the dinner table, with the TV off.' he had instructed and she had laughed mocking he sounded like her father. He had reprimended at how she never eat anything properly, Sara did breakfast and one meal a day with two break for coffee, that she recently tried to replace with tea. She didn't knew how to cook, another excuse, he didn't mind that but she was lazy to order too apparently. 'You eat anything at anytime and sometimes you eat nothing.' Doctor habits she'd told him. And after a few weeks Michael had found it particularly blissful to not care about meals and grab a box of pasta at midnight and share it on the couch watching series.

Safa had discovered Michael was a perfectionist, nearing the borders of maniac when wanted things kept by genre in the fridge while Sara's had always been half empty. He spoke about mess when there was barely her keys, purse and files laid on the countertop. He complained about the the sea of feminine hair, face products and make up she had when Sara literally used only deodorant, perfume, body cream, hair spray, foundation and lip balm. Most of all he needed all his shirts and tee's always pressed from laundry and hung on the dressing but Sara had taken on the (bad) habit to often use his shirts or tee's as PJ. And so, like her own clothes she used to drop them on her chair come laundry bag.

But Sara and Michael loved it, things could trigger tiffs between them but it was never serious, just mundane. And the both of them loved that, loved that the content of their tiffs were mundane things, not life defining. Now Michael used to smile when he found her wet towel on their bed or a shirt of his poking from her pile of clothes, and Sara grinned and often mocked him when she found the plates arranged by size order when doing the washing up or even when she found he had arranged her jeans in a gradient of color from lighter blue to darker.

Sara was in a real bliss, being married to Michael, having her job back and a baby on the way, it's all she could want. And it all fit so perfectly into her life, for once Sara wasn't anxious or empty and lone. She was purely happy and nothing could take that away from her, she didn't knew if she could blame her pregnancy or the experience she's had but she found herself laughing off or shrugging over little problems that she could be mad at before. Like when her car broke down, she didn't get angry or pissed off, she happily took the bus to work while staring at the people passing by.

Sara was one to keep discreet and socializing hadn't been her thing, for she hated her father's social circle and their fake smiles and boring conversation. But she's been so much in a bliss Sara found herself greeting everyone, from the people of the building to the grocery store or the bus drivers. Yeah since her experience she'd liked to take the bus when she felt lazy or was late. She had made a few friends in the neighborhood now, so as Michael. He joined the sport club and was genuinely happy and exited about becoming father. He had indeed bought numerous of baby magazines. He had been teased about it by Lincoln all too often, he'd been told these were girly magazines anyway, Sucre had taken Michael's side saying he would have done the same if he had the chance. Sucre and Maricruz had taken a small city house not too far away and both were so happy with Lila.

Lincoln even called it gross when Michael got magazines for childbirth. He had an eyebrow furrowed and tried to understand the whole processus by comparing it with a machine's working and Sara had laughed and kissed his nose taking the magazine from him and reassuring him that she was a doctor and that things would be fine.

Both had talked about how the baby wasn't planned and shared their fears, but the joy of being parent coated it all and they had agreed they would do their best because they loved their baby.

Michael hadn't seen Sara this happy, not ever. She'd grin and laugh all the time and he was glad because he loved the sound of her laughter and the fact that he was the cause of her joy. Sara Scofield herself brought so much happiness into his life, Michael found himself letting go at times and doing what his heart wished, he'd been feeling so much lighter. Four months had passed by so quickly, it just felt like yesterday when they got married.

Michael was in his office, working on a blueprint with his glasses on when the phone rang. 'Hey.' He hear Sara's cheery voice and his own features relaxed his lips breaking into a smile.

'Hey yourself Tancredi.' He smirked knowing she would scoff.

'It's Scofield. .' she corrected walking through the sea of people in the busy street. It was a cold month of february, had already snew a few times and the temperatures had been negatives too often. They were nearing 0 degrees by now and Sara's eyes were moist from the cold air and she held her coat tigher to herself, her hand holding the phone turning red from cold. 'Uh you're not too busy I hope?' Sara asked taking a turn at a road and hiding her chin in her scarf. She was showing slightly by now, but her stomach was hid warmly through the layers of clothes and her coat.

'Well I've got a lot of work.' Michael started and Sara's smile faded a bit. 'Oh, no time for your wife?' She said understanding and not letting her tone reflet her disappointment. Sara held a white plastic bag, she had brought some boxed pasta and a couple of donuts wanting to have her lunch with Michael before her long evening shift.

Michael sighed, as much as he wanted to talk more to Sara, he couldn't right now. 'I wanted to finish it quick so I can come back to you before you leave.' Michael said honestly eyeing the pile of files, her shift started at 4 pm and he would like to see her before she left. 'You're distracting me right now.' He said wickedly and Sara's lips curved in a smile again.

'If you wanted to see me before I leave for the hospital, I may have a solution Scofield.' Sara smiled imitating her own doctor's neutral tone.

'Oh really, a new miracle solution, you're a lifesaver doc.' He feigned enthusiasm and earned a giggle from the other end of the line.

'Hope you didn't had lunch yet?' Sara quipped and Michael looked at his watch. 2 pm.

'Nope, have been too busy. What's on your mind?' He asked leaving his blueprints aside and moving to the window, he was distracted now, all he could think about was Sara.

'How about lunch with your wife?' Sara suggested knowing however Michael wouldn't refuse.

'That'll be really nice. I'm calling it a break. Where do you want to go?'

'We're not going anywhere in this cold. I'm joining you in your office, it's much warmer.' Sara spoke as some from her lips and she kept herself walking not to shudder with cold.

Michael grinned knowing how Sara always pretended to be okay with the cold and blamed him to be too sensitive. 'It gets hotter when you come in here.' Sara's already cold-pink cheeks flushed red.

'Michael, I hope you remember the rule about nothing happening in our work places?' Michael smirked knowing if he kissed her she wouldn't resist and would be the first one to throw him over the desk and rip his clothes away.

'It's a rule we've broken too many times already.' He smiled, he loved hearing Sara's voice.

Sara smiled too, trying not to blush at the memories and looked up ahead of her seeing his office building from afar. Suddenly Sara felt an excruciating pain in her stomach that knocked the breath out of her, she stopped in her tracks sinking to the ground and dropping the food bag. Everything felt like it was in a slow motion, the cars honking, the noise of the metro not far, the people's steps and bustling around her, the flash of the signal lights changing from red to green, the noise of the scooters. Just for a moment everything felt so far, a buzzing echoed in her ears and her features were still in shock with her lips agap. She breathed in feeling nothing but the pain and trying to breath through it.

Michael didn't hear from Sara for a while and called her name without getting any response, he blamed the network at first but when he heard her rapid breathing over the street's noises, he stood up alert feeling fear gaining all his sense.

'Sara? Sara do you hear me? Are you okay?' Michael asked trying to keep his tone calm.

Sara felt so much pain that her breath came into small gasps as the cold air burned her throat. 'Michael.' She called out in a small but high pitched voice and Michael's heart dropped.

'What's wrong Sara? What's happening?' Michael asked and she gripped the phone tight while the orher still clutched at her stomach, all Sara could think was breathing, just like when she had felt a deep need of morphine. Breath Sara, nothing's wrong. Just breath.

The pain became a dull ache after a couple of seconds and Sara opened her eyes. 'I'm okay.' She let out sakily and Michael closed his eyes, only half relived hearing her tone. 'Thank god, I'm coming to get you.' Michael grabbed his coat and ran out of his cabin not taking the time to tell anyone, he pushed the lift button hastily.

Sara let go of her stomach and put her hand on the hard concrete to push herself up, she took a step forward and cried out feeling as if her sromach's just been decapitated with a bulldozer. Michael's breath got caught in his throat. 'Sara?' His hands formed a fist and his eyes oreviously hurriedly looking at the red flashing numbers of the lift lost focus.

The pain was so intense Sara kept on screaming but her throat went dry when she felt something hot pool on her cold jeans clad thighs, she reached down and touched her jeans hoping it was just the sauce of the pasta, or someone spilled coffee on her helpless form lying on the hard ground. She even wished for a second that it could be pee, she didn't care for how embarrassing it could be. But the smell she felt was too horrendous and heartbreakingly familiar for the doctor she was. Sara retrieved her hand and saw it covered in blood, she let out a strangled sob and held onto her stomach desperately as another form of pain invaded her heart.

Her baby, their baby..

'Sara!' Michael practically shouted through the phone that had fell from her hands. He gripped the lift's bar tapping his feet impatiently against the floor. 'Sara where are you? How far are you? Sara please!' Panic filled every fiber of his body.

Sara's ears could only hear a far buzzing, someone knelt by her to ask how if she was okay or if he had to call 911, Sara couldn't hear anything. She curled into a ball and clutched on her stomach for dear life, baby's life. 'Michael..!' Sara cried out through pain, she was losing the baby, she could feel it slip from her like sand from hands.