Just Have A Little Faith (Prison Break Fanfic)

Missing You

(8 months after Michael's death)
Lincoln was not usually the observant type. Michael was always the brain, he was just the brute. Maybe it was being forced to take on both roles now that his brother was gone, or maybe it was just the effect of nearly a year on the run. He did not know what it was that made him notice the slight shift in positioning of the surf boards stacked against the wall and the slightly ajar door to his newly opened surf shop, but he noticed it all the same.
Stealthily, he nudged open the door and felt round the corner for a light switch, his eyes automatically searching the room for a weapon. His mind drifted to Sofia and LJ sleeping soundly upstairs - or so he hoped. If whoever was here had got to them... The idea was incomprehensible. He only lost his brother 8 months ago, he could not lose them too.
His fingers scraped the light switch and light flooded the room, momentarily blinding him. When his eyes adjusted to the light, shockingly bright compared to the blackness of the beach outside. It was one of the reasons he loved Costa Rica so much - besides of course the ability to live his life away from the constant fear of going back to Fox River. He sought comfort in the darkness of the silent coast here, something he never experienced in the busy streets of Chicago. He spent many a night nowadays lying on the beach, staring out into pitch blackness, thinking of his brother.
The harsh light of his surf shop now felt threatening. Moreover, as shapes began to form in the brightness, he discovered more unrest. Nothing major, but the odd shift in position of a few items. Someone was definitely here.
A quiet sound could be heard from the other end of the room. Grabbing a shovel, the closest thing to a weapon he could find, Lincoln crept across the floor, following the noise, which seemed to become gentler and less threatening with every step.
It was not until just before he saw her that he recognised the sound as stifled sobbing. Slumped behind the counter, hands clutching what looked like a small paper flower, lay a heavily pregnant Sara, sobbing into her lap.
Pity rose up inside Lincoln and dropping the shovel, he crouched down beside her. This had happened a number of times in the past few months. The combination of pregnancy hormones combined with the grief of losing her husband had left Sara unstable. She had moved out a month ago, deciding she needed her own place to bring up the baby, but being alone had only made her worse. It was now a regular occurrence for Linc to come home to a grieving Sara collapsed on his shop floor - just never in the middle of the night before.
Crouching down beside her, he bundled her up in his arms, carefully avoiding his unborn nephew. He said nothing. There was nothing to say - he had no way of comforting her in words because the reality of their pain was every bit as crippling as it felt. But they had both found comfort in being with each other for the last 8 months, just knowing that the other one's pain was every bit as raw as their own.