09. ♞ A WORLD RECORD

PHOEBE SAT SILENTLY BESIDES MICHAEL in the penitentiary's church, sitting a few inches away from him as Lincoln sat in the bench in front of them with his back facing the partners in crime (literally).

"What the hell are you thinking, Michael? How we doin'?" Lincoln asked quietly, turning his head back ever so slightly so only the duo could hear him. Michael leaned forward.

"The infirmary." Michael informed. Phoebe remained silent as she stared at the back of Lincoln's head, waiting for a reaction from him which took a couple of seconds before Lincoln spoke again.

"The infirmary?" Lincoln asked, wondering to himself if that would really be the best option for escape, but he knew that his brother and friend had spent months planning this out. Hell, he'd even seen all the tattoos they'd gotten just so they could be extra safe with their plan. He trusted them. They were, after all, much more intelligent than him.

"It's the weakest link in the security chain." Michael explained. "As long as I get that pugnac, I'll get all the access I need." Michael said with a small smirk.

"The hell's a pugnac?" Lincoln asked in confusion. Phoebe smiled, leaning forwards to speak on the other side of Lincoln.

"It'll lower Michael's insulin levels." Phoebe explained. "It'll lower it to the point where he becomes hyperglycemic and good ol' miss Dr Tancredi will believe he's diabetic."

"And then I'll have plenty of time to do what I need to do." Michael continued. Lincoln furrowed his brows.

"Which is...?" Lincoln questioned.

"Just a little work. A few baby steps in the plan." Phoebe said. Michael nodded.

"A little prep for your arrival." Michael continued. "That's the idea, anyway." He said.

"The idea?" Lincoln asked, almost as if he was too confused by the whole plan they'd thought out and by all the little bits of information they were giving him that he didn't even understand.

"There's a little hitch in getting the pugnac, that's all." Michael said, staring at Lincoln's shoulder in deep thought. "They don't exactly stock it at the commissary."

"You're telling me this whole thing is riding on a bunch of pills?" Lincoln asked in disbelief.

"Someone's working on it as we speak." Michael said, turning back around to face Phoebe with a knowing look and smirk before turning to look behind Phoebe at a dark skinned man known as C-Note. Michael had been able to convince the man to get the pugnac for him. Phoebe had offered to be the one to talk to him and get the pugnac, but Michael was skeptical about letting her get too close to the other inmates, considering lots of them were probably in prison for horrible crimes, most likely against women. He didn't want any harm to come to his best friend.

"Now is not the time to be trusting a black inmate, Michael." Lincoln said in disapproval. Phoebe frowned.

"What does his skin color have anything to do with all this? Most of these white men have commit actually horrid crimes, more so than whatever he could've possibly done to be in here." Phoebe defended and crossed her arms momentarily before grabbing onto her knees in stress. Michael smiled at how defensive Phoebe was getting over someone she didn't even know, admiring that part of her, as he put a hand on hers to calm her down. Lincoln sighed.

"I didn't mean it that way, Bee. You know I didn't." Lincoln stressed. Phoebe bit her bottom lip to keep herself from speaking any further when Michael gave her hand a tight squeeze in another attempt to calm her down.

"Our relationship turned sans race." Michael said, explaining that whatever they had going on had nothing to do with race. It was all about the pugnac. That's what mattered.

"Nothing turns sans race in here." Lincoln informed bitterly. He knew exactly how he was sounding, but things were different out in the world and in prison, and in prison, sometimes race did matter, at least to the inmates, more specifically the racist ones. "I can't let you do it. Neither of you. With good behavior, you're out of here in three years." Lincoln said, shutting his eyes as he thought about it. His siblings would leave soon, and he would stay behind to die. It was how it was supposed to be, or so he thought.

"Maybe, but with our plan it'll be a whole lot sooner than that." Phoebe piped up, crossing her arms across her chest. When she moved to cross her arms was when she noticed that Michael had still not removed his hand from hers and he awkwardly pulled his hand back to his lap after Phoebe's hand was moved away from his own. Phoebe blushed in embarrassment but pretended she hadn't noticed anything.

"Can't be done—" Lincoln paused as an inmate walked past him, remaining silent as to not reveal too much information to anyone else. "Can't be done, guys. No one's ever broken out of Fox River." He said.

"Great, we'll be the first. Sign us up for the Guinness book of world records. First people to break out of Fox River, it'll say." Phoebe said teasingly with a smirk, making Michael smirk and slightly shake his head at her.

"Every single step has already been mapped down." Michael reassured. "Every contingency." Lincoln snapped his head in direction of the duo now with a scowl on his face. He was having a battle with himself, not knowing whether or not he should accept their help or simply die.

"Every contingency?" Lincoln repeated in an are-you-serious tone. "You may have the blueprints of this place, but there's one thing those plans can't show you. People. Guys like Abruzzi, you so much as look at these guys the wrong way, they'll cut you up." Michael moved his head side and side with a small smile.

"Wow, you have so little faith in us, Linc." Phoebe teased again, leaning forward. "I'm a bit hurt by you underestimating us." Michael smiled.

"As far as the rest of these guys are concerned, we're just another pair of cons doing their time." Michael explained in a reassuring matter.

"Just a couple of cons staying out of trouble." Phoebe added on. Lincoln shook his head.

"You don't go looking for trouble in here, it just finds you." Lincoln whispered as Michael leaned back in the bench.

"And when it does, we'll be long gone." Michael said with a smirk that Phoebe mirrored. Lincoln sighed.

"This is bad." Lincoln stressed. "You can't even get out of your cell." He pointed out. Michael shook his head.

"Not true." Phoebe and Michael said in unison, giving each other a quick glance at this with a smirk. As cruel as it sounded, Phoebe was enjoying seeing Lincoln so freaked out. She knew everything would work out in the end, but she found it hilarious that Lincoln still doubted them. After all, Michael was the mastermind behind it all, Phoebe was simply following and giving some ideas every once in a while, and they all knew Michael's mind was, to the say the least, magnificent. They couldn't deny that Phoebe herself was rather intelligent, a lot more than the average person, but she knew deep down that she was no match for Michael's brilliant mind.

"What, you got a key?" Lincoln asked sarcastically. Phoebe tilted her head and smiled.

"Something like that." Michael retorted. Phoebe nodded and leaned closer.

"Don't worry, Linc. We've got everything under control. Trust in your brother's big brain." Phoebe teased with a smirk, placing a hand on Michael's shoulder and rubbing it comfortingly, something she sometimes subconsciously did when teasing him. The action brought butterflies to both Phoebe and Michael's stomachs, although neither decided to acknowledge those feelings. Unbeknownst to the duo, someone was watching them from the back of the church, watching their every move and examining all the little things Phoebe and Michael did when together. It was then crystal clear to that person, that Phoebe and Michael were very important to one another. It was clear that they would even take a bullet for each other.