Last chapter, baby! I'm impressed you made it this far-thanks so much for reading. I'm happy to have made some new friends here. (Prison Break fans rock.) I know we all hope for an amazing season five.

Cheers, Jennifer Lane

38. Dream

The thwack of hammers filled the air.

"Is this right, Dad?"

Lincoln stopped his hammer midair to look at the position of the nail on the two-by-four. The spray of bullet holes left by the company agent Bolo had forced them to tear down most of the kitchen wall in the Puerto Limón bungalow, and now he and LJ were charged with making repairs.

"Yeah. You're doing great." Lincoln ruffled his hair, eliciting a blush from LJ.

When the younger Burrows resumed his hammering, the older Burrows felt hammered by relief. They'd come so far. They'd made it.

His mind drifted back to Fox River, sitting in that damn final visitation room and clutching the phone to his ear. He'd curled up on the windowsill and tried to figure out how to say goodbye to his son without crying. LJ hadn't made it easy.

"I had a dream last night. You and me were working on a house, pounding nails, and, uh, in the dream it felt like we were older. It was so clear, the whole dream. And when I woke, I knew that today wasn't going to be the end, that . . . that we'll see each other again, Dad. I know it. I love you, Dad."

His son had never lost faith. There'd been times when Lincoln had given up, but never LJ. Just like Michael, he'd kept the faith.

~~ o*o ~~

Sara watched Karina and Ben meander down the shoreline away from her. She sat on the grainy sand and shivered from the cool December breezes. An origami rose twirled in her fingers.

The rose had awaited them when they'd arrived last night on a chartered flight from Miami. She and Michael had laughed at the sloppy, makeshift origami they'd found in the mailbox—it was obvious Lincoln had made it for him. But she'd known Michael had asked him to make it, and his thoughtfulness meant so much. She drew the paper rose to her face and skimmed it across her lips, smiling as she inhaled salty sea air.

"Let's see if this one smells any better."

She hadn't heard Michael approach, and she turned to him with a grin. He clutched a fresh origami rose that had structural engineer written all over its impeccable construction.

"So that's what this was about—getting me my rose back."

He settled in behind and straddled her. "Yeah I guess I'm done now. I can retire."

She chuckled as she gazed at the roiling ocean. "You've certainly chosen a lovely location for your retirement, Mr. Scofield."

He swept his hand across the vast expanse of nature. "The ocean . . ."

". . . is your back yard," they finished together, breaking into bright grins.

She leaned back into his chest. "You can do origami now? Your hands . . .?"

"It's actually good rehabilitation." He flexed his hands, stretching the burned skin taut over fine bones. "I'll probably make more roses for you in the future—be prepared."

"Maybe you can fold some origami for the peanut? Know how to make any origami airplanes? Lizards? Skyscrapers?"

His eyes lit up. "Not yet, but I'll enjoy the challenge."

"I'm sure you will." Her head nuzzled into his chest. "You're always up for a challenge."

He pressed a kiss to her hair.

"So that's where you were—off making a rose," she said. "You can't just wander off like that, you know. We were missing you. The peanut needs you."

A hint of worry crept into his voice. "The amniocentesis said the baby's doing better, right?"

"Yes. He's fine."

He gave her belly a gentle squeeze. "So your worry for the baby is basically a ploy to get me to stay glued by your side."

She giggled. "Basically."

Michael nudged in to plant a soft kiss on her jawline, then whispered in her ear, "I'll never leave you, Sara."

Exhaling deeply, she melted into him.

His voice was full of wonder. "I can't believe we're having a boy."

"Me, neither."

"Have you thought about potential names?" He smirked. "We could stick with what we've got, but I'm thinking Peanut Scofield will get teased like no tomorrow."

She tilted her head. "I have thought of a name." She paused. "Michael. Michael Scofield, Junior."

"MJ, huh?"

She felt him tense behind her. "You don't like it?"

"No, it's . . ." He exhaled. "I'm honored you want to name our son after me. I am. It's just . . . that name carries a lot of baggage, Sara." He swallowed. "Michael Scofield's been through a lot . . . a lot of bad things. I don't want our son to experience that pain."

"Oh." She nodded. "I didn't see it that way, but that makes sense."

He smoothed one hand over her auburn hair. "How did you see it?"

"I feel so much love and affection for the peanut already. But I don't know if I can ever love this baby as much as I love his father."

"Oh, Sara." He held her tight.

Her voice trembled. "I wanted to name him Michael, because it's a name I love. It's the man I love."

He tucked her into him. "If it means that much to you, we can do it. We can name our son Michael. I just need some time to wrap my mind around it."

"But I want to name him together." She sighed. "We'll think of something. We have four months."

"If Michael's on time," he warned.

She squinted. "Oh! If the baby's on time." She grinned. "I'm already mixing you two up. Maybe we should give him another name."

They rocked together as they studied the rollicking waves. Sara's hands folded over Michael's hands, which cradled her bulging belly with the utmost care. The hammering at the house had stopped, and the only sound was the pounding surf.

"It's so peaceful here," Sara murmured. "You picked a great spot for us."

"Thank you. I'm glad you like it."

"I didn't like it so much when I first got here, I have to admit."

"Why's that?"

Her eyes turned down. "You weren't here. We thought . . . we thought we'd lost you. Forever."

"I'm so sorry."

She took his burned hands in hers, turning and examining the scarred flesh. "The video you made, Michael . . . it was heartbreaking. I couldn't bear to think about our baby never getting to know his father."

"I'm sorry," he rasped again.

"You wanted me to tell our child that he's loved, to remind him everyday how lucky he is to be free." She drew his long fingers up to her mouth and kissed them. "But now you'll be able to tell him those things yourself."

"Thank God."

"In your video, you said we were free. But we weren't, Michael. We weren't free. Lincoln and I were on the run, and you were supposedly dead."

He drew in a long breath and nodded. "Guess that was selfish of me. You and Linc weren't free, but maybe I thought I was finally free."

"Free of what?"

"Not sure." He sighed. "I was tired . . . I didn't know another way out. I only knew I had to save you and the baby. I couldn't let you pay for all of my mistakes."

Sara's throat burned with impending tears. "Your life's been full of suffering. I don't want you to suffer any more."

He nestled his nose into her hair and rested his chin on her shoulder. "You've suffered, too."

They stayed like that for several minutes, clinging onto each other with their eyes shut.

"I'm so thankful I found you." A few of her tears squeezed out. "My eight-toed wonder."

"And I'm so lucky you were my doctor. Grateful you left that infirmary door unlocked." He kissed her cheek. "Linc's grateful, too."

"Do you know how your brother reacted after we watched your goodbye video?"

"Uh . . . with violence?"

"He whipped the remote control against the cabin wall. It shattered into a hundred pieces."

Michael suppressed a grin. "Sounds 'bout right." After a beat, he looked down. "Linc told me I'll be a better father than our dad was to us."

"You will be a wonderful father."

He fidgeted. "How do you know?"

"Because I know you. I know the kind of man you are. And you promised you'd be the most prepared father ever, remember?"

He nodded. "I need to get back to my reading soon."

Scooting around, she faced him and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you've only finished five parenting books this week, boy scout."

His head angled to one side. "Wonder if we should put Michael in the Boy Scouts?"

"I don't know. Were you in the Boy Scouts?"

"No." He averted his eyes.

She took his hands in hers once again. "I guess it'd be tough for a foster kid to be in the Boy Scouts?"

His eyes darting back to hers, he nodded. There was a moment of silence between them.

"Lincoln told me," she whispered. "He told me about your foster father."

Watching his face fall, she reached up to smooth a hand down his cheek. "It's okay, honey. It wasn't your fault."

He swallowed hard, unable to look away. "How can you . . ." He cleared his throat to try to stop his voice from shaking. "How can you know that about me, and still, still think I'll be a good father?"

Sara held his face in his hands. "Some perpetuate the cycle of abuse, but not you. You'll never hurt our son. You fight for the underdog, and you care for your family more than anyone. Trust me on this, Michael. I know you."

He found nothing but honesty and admiration in her brown eyes. He drew her onto his lap. Leaning forward, he closed his eyes as they kissed. Tension drained from his shoulders when their kiss deepened. He smiled as he whispered, "You're an excellent healer, Dr. Tancredi."

Sara let go of him and pushed his back into the sand. "That's Dr. Scofield." She crawled on him and leaned down for more kisses while skating her hands over his closely cropped hair.

"It's official," he agreed.

They moved together on the fine, grainy sand, creating new memories.

~~ o*o ~~

"Can I help?" Ben asked.

Lincoln eyed the lanky, sandy-haired teenager. "About time you got your butt over here and did some work. LJ, show him what to do."

LJ guided Ben through the finer points of drywall, while Lincoln took Karina's hand. He nodded at her collarbone. "How're you feeling, Kar?"

"Barely feel the scar today."

He exhaled. His voice lowered. "I was, uh, a little worried, after last night . . ."

Her cheeks flamed as she recalled their evening. She didn't know which couple was louder—she and Lincoln or Sara and Michael—but she did know she was grateful for the separate wing housing the boys' bedroom.

She ignored her wobbly knees. "Good thing my doctor told me I needed a peaceful place to rest and recover. It's beautiful here, Linc."

His blue eyes bore into her. "We wouldn't have come down here without you."

He guided her to the patio, where they lounged on deck chairs. Sara and Michael were further down the beach, not visible from the bungalow.

"Looks like you're making good progress on repairing the wall?"

"Yeah." Lincoln frowned. "We can't have that company tool leaving his mark on our new home."

Karina gazed out at the ocean. "You and LJ plan to live here, then?"

"Dunno." His tongue darted out to sweep across his lower lip. "Michael wants to stay here for at least a few weeks, then figure things out from there. How long can you stay?"

"Ben's school's back in session January third . . . so I guess we'll have to return to Miami before then."

"Right." He cleared his throat. "Miami's a good city."

She listened to the cries of seagulls in the distance. "You probably want to go wherever your brother goes, hmm?"

"Yeah, but I want to get LJ settled somewhere solid, too."

"Of course." Her hands twisted in her lap. "Are you thinking Chicago?"

"Not right now. Too many bad memories." His chest squeezed when his thoughts drifted to Veronica. He was fairly certain LJ didn't want to return to the site of his mother's death, nor did Michael want to be anywhere near Fox River. "Michael did say he wants to be back in the states for his son's birth. He doesn't want to take any risks."

Karina nodded. "If there's anything I can do to help . . ."

"We, uh, Michael and I, we actually talked about living in Miami." He gave her a sideways glance. "If that's okay with you and Ben?"

"Okay with me? That'd be wonderful with me!"

He popped out of his chair, drew her to her feet, and wrapped her in a crushing embrace.

"Linc!" she squeaked.

He jumped back, eyes wide. "The gunshot wound! Sorry 'bout that. Got a little carried away."

She giggled. "Can we try again, more gently this time?"

He cradled the back of her head and planted a tender, lush kiss on her lips.

Her heart pounded as his scratchy skin brushed her cheek. She sagged against him, feeling so safe and loved in his strong arms.

They kept holding each other, warming their bodies in the cool Caribbean air. "Linc? You sure you want to be with me? You're not saying that out of . . . out of guilt?"

He pulled back with a frown. "Guilt? No way. I've got guilt for things I've done—for people I've hurt—but I don't feel that way for you, babe. You're the only good thing that's happened to me since this mess began. I want you in my life." He nodded. "I want you in LJ's life. And we all know Ben needs a dad, if he'll take me. When we get to that point, of course."

He leaned in for another kiss.

"Besides . . ." He smirked. "Every time it was freaking minus ten in Chicago, freezing my balls off, I'd dream about palm trees and sun."

"Well we wouldn't want your balls to freeze off."

~~ o*o ~~

"Oye!" Sucre called. "We're home!"

He carried a grocery bag into the kitchen but stopped short once he noticed Lincoln, LJ, and Ben making finishing touches on the drywall.

"Hijole—you guys are fast!"

Maricruz followed him in, balancing a sleeping Lila and a few pieces of mail.

"Did you get it?" Lincoln stuck his nose into the bag.

"Do you know how far we had to drive?" Sucre scowled. "The guy at the hotel gave us crappy directions, but we finally found it."

Lincoln grinned. "I'll fire up the grill."

"Dad, should we start painting?" LJ asked.

"Nah, let's wait till tomorrow. A storm's coming so we'll probably have to eat inside—don't want the fumes interfering with dinner."

"What are we supposed to do now?" Ben asked.

"Yeah, Dad—there's nothing to do here."

Lincoln looked at the crashing waves. "What're you talking about, 'nothing to do'? Get out there and catch some waves, guys! Right before a storm's the perfect time!"

The boys rushed to their bedroom to change into wetsuits.

"Be careful!" Karina hollered from the other room, where she was reading medical journals.

Two hours later, Lincoln's prediction had come true. Buffeting winds and pelting rains assaulted the beach house. All were safe inside, however, enjoying a dinner by candlelight.

Feeding a bite of filet mignon to his wife, Michael's eyebrow arched. "Told you I'd take you to dinner, when I got out of there, alive."

Sara shook her head as she chewed. "Fernando bought this. Still doesn't count, Scofield."

"What! When will you ever stop nagging me, woman?"

They shared a devious smile.

"Never thought I'd live to eat steak again," LJ said, popping a bite in his mouth.

"Those waves were huge!" Ben agreed, his shaggy hair still wet from the ocean. "I almost died like five times out there."

Lincoln laughed at Karina's look of alarm. "They'll be fine, Kar."

"I'm so glad Ben has a friend egging him on to risk his life."

Maricruz turned to her husband. "My Fernando never did risky stuff like that when he was a teenager, did you, sweetie?"

"Uh . . ." Sucre glanced around the kitchen, remembering multiple shenanigans with his cousins but not wanting to put any ideas into LJ's head. "Hey! The mail! We forgot to give it to you."

He leapt out of his chair and handed Michael the couple pieces of mail that he'd left on the counter. Michael frowned at the advertisement on top. "I thought we'd avoid junk mail in Costa Rica." Shuffling to the next envelope, his expression lightened. "We got a letter from Henry."

"We did?" Sara leaned in.

LJ explained to Ben, "That was the warden at Fox River."

Michael opened the letter, scanned a few lines, then decided to read aloud.

Dear Michael,

I hope this letter finds you well. I got your address from Alex Mahone, who told me you're free! I couldn't be more relieved for you and your family. It's been an incredible journey, and I'm so grateful you survived. As you know, I'm a big believer in rehabilitation. You now have the opportunity to start life anew, strengthened by what has come before you and optimistic about what remains ahead.

Michael, I can't stop thinking about what you told me in the hospital. I'm quite saddened by the death of your father. Despite the lack of fatherly influence, you and Lincoln have become such fine men. I'm immensely proud of you both. It's also tragic that Dr. Tancredi lost her father in this mess. I'm struck by how much has been stolen away from your family, unfairly and inconsolably.

I think about the little baby growing in Dr. Tancredi's womb, and I don't want that child to suffer losses like the parents have. So, if you'll have me, I'd like to offer my services as a grandfather. Actually, if you'll have both of us as grandparents, Judy makes a mean apple pie that your children could enjoy someday (my growing midsection is testament to this!)

If you'd rather not have reminders of Fox River in your new life, I completely understand. But I wanted to extend this offer, as a means of giving you something, after so much has been taken away. You deserve peace and love and joy in your life, nothing less.

Take care and God bless,

Henry

P.S. Give Dr. Tancredi a kiss for me. I'm sure Fox River is missing her competence and compassion.

Michael looked up from reading the letter to find tears spilling down Sara's cheeks. He reached out to her, and she placed his hand on her bump.

She asked, "What about naming the baby Henry Fernando Scofield?"

His eyes widened at first, but when Sucre beamed at him, he nodded. "That's beautiful—I love it." Thinking for a moment, he added, "Or, we could name him Henry Alexander Scofield. Then, for our second son, we'll name him Fernando Michael Scofield."

"A second son?" Sara's jaw lowered. "Let's get through this baby first."

They chuckled, and a warm glow spread throughout the room. Michael gazed at each guest as he marveled at the turn of events in his life. Before Fox River, his life had been empty. Now, he had a wife, child, brother, and best friend.

He rested his crystal-blue eyes on the mother of his child, and she smiled back at him, her face glistening with the tracks of her tears. The nightmare had ended, and now they would share the dream. Together.

~~ o*o ~~

After the storm had passed through and dinner dishes had been washed, Michael went looking for his brother. He found him out back on the patio, gazing at the kaleidoscope of colors left behind by the storm. The setting sun illuminated the brilliant oranges and pinks that hovered over the calm sea.

"Hey," he murmured as he sidled next to his brother.

Lincoln rocked back and forth on his heels with his fists jammed into his jean pockets. "Hey."

They stared at the seascape, needing no words to describe the long road they'd taken—the dreams that had died, the dreams that had begun.

Lincoln broke the silence. "You kept the faith, Michael."

He nodded, then stepped forward into Lincoln's waiting embrace.

Well I had a dream
I stood beneath an orange sky
Yes I had a dream
I stood beneath an orange sky
With my brother standing by
With my brother standing by
I said Brother, you know you know
It's a long road we've been walking on

Orange Sky, Alexi Murdoch

~~ THE END ~~