11. ♞  KEEP HER SAFE

       "WAIT, WAIT, WAIT. YOU... LOST IT?" Phoebe asked in slight confusion, arms crossed as she plopped down onto the bottom bunk in their cell. The cells were all opened, the inmates wandered as freely as they could throughout the cell block, having just come inside from the courtyard. Michael had explained to Phoebe that during her shower that day, while he was alone in the courtyard, he'd managed to get the bolt from the bleachers free, only for T-Bag to take it from him. Michael had asked Abruzzi for help shaking down the inmate, but he'd declined upon Michael's lack of information on the whereabouts of the man he was looking for; Fibonacci.

       "I didn't lose it, T-Bag took it." Michael said, his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the wall and sighed. They watched as a few inmates paced back and forth across the bridge right outside their cell. Phoebe sighed.

       "Well, what if we search his cell while he's out?" Phoebe suggested. "We can search it as soon as he leaves. It's not like there's many hiding places in a cell." She pointed out. Michael thought about it for a second before nodding.

       "Okay. I'll search it." He said, pushing himself off the wall. Phoebe pushed herself off the bunk and nodded.

       "I'll help you." She said. Michael paused and quickly turned to face her, making Phoebe freeze in her spot.

       "It's best you stay here." He said. Phoebe crossed her arms and shook her head.

       "We're in this together, Michael J. Scofield, and I am going to help you whether you like it or not." Phoebe said with finality in her tone. Michael smiled and cocked an eyebrow as he chuckled and shook his head.

       "Did you really need to add the J?" Michael asked. Phoebe shrugged.

       "Didn't feel like saying your full name, but if that catches your attention better, I'll say it, Michael Ja—"

       "I get it, I get it." Michael interrupted with a laugh, putting a hand on her head and ruffling her hair. Phoebe slapped his hand away, running a hand through her hair.

"Dude," She whined, fixing her hair. Michael stifled a laugh.

"Did you just call me 'dude'?" Michael asked, seeing as Phoebe never really called him that. Phoebe crossed her arms and gave him a look as if saying, yeah, so? Michael rolled his eyes playfully and waved her over. "Come on." He said, suddenly becoming serious as he stalked out of their cell with Phoebe hot on his heels. They went down the stairs and paced around as they watched T-Bag like hawks as he ascended up the stairs and towards a cell at the edge of the cell block.

       "Yo, curly! Come on, Maytag!" T-Bag shouted, catching the attention of the lost puppy inmate, who was walking around alone. The puppy turned swiftly and jogged up the stairs, rushing to his master's side. Phoebe and Michael gave each other a glance and a nod as they wasted no time in rushing over to T-Bag's cell. Michael rushed inside and began his speedy search, with Phoebe right outside keeping watch.

       "You find anything?" She asked, watching T-Bag. Michael shook his head.

       "Nothing yet." He said, turning the place upside down as he searched, but no luck. Phoebe huffed, her breath hitching in her throat when she saw T-Bag start to make his way down.

       "Hurry, Mike. He's coming back." She informed nervously. Michael didn't reply as he zoomed back and forth, trying to think of possible hiding places and searching. Phoebe was preparing herself to stall T-Bag to give Michael more time, when she saw him and the lost puppy walking their way. T-Bag suddenly looked up, his eyes meeting Phoebe's. He smirked at first, walking over quickly but pausing and scowling when he saw Michael in his cell. He looked between the two.

       "Whatcha doin' in my cell?!" T-Bag sneered, leaning against the opened cell door. He turned to face Phoebe, growling in her face. "Thought you were bringing me a nice little gift, not searchin' my cell." He spat. Phoebe inched away from him, jaw clenched nervously as she wrung her hands together.

       "Well, we uh..." Phoebe tried to find something to say, some kind of explanation, but nothing came out. Michael rushed to her side and looked over at T-Bag.

      "We want in." Michael rushed to say, trying to take the man's attention off of Phoebe. T-Bag's brows rose as he looked between them again. T-Bag pushed himself between Michael and Phoebe, leaving Michael inside the cell and Phoebe outside with her back resting against the concrete walls in between the cells. She took heavy breaths as she allowed Michael to do the talking, looking at the cells in front of her when movement caught her attention.

       From the cells above, she saw C-Note and another dark-skinned inmate staring at the two. They clearly saw that Michael and Phoebe were fraternizing with their enemy. Phoebe gulped. This couldn't be good. They would surely think the duo were on T-Bag's side and would end up not giving Michael the pugnac. Maybe searching T-Bag's cell wasn't a good idea, after all. Phoebe immediately felt stupid for suggesting the idea. She looked up at the men, shaking her head at them, as if trying to let them know that they weren't really on T-Bag's side, or any side for that matter.

       "You know the old sayin', don't you? In for an inch, in for a mile." T-Bag recited. Michael nodded.

       "Whatever it takes." Michael said. "You want me to fight, I'll fight." He said. Phoebe furrowed her brows as she noticed how Michael said me and not we. He was excluding her from the fight. "The bolt from the bleachers, that's what it was for." Michael lied in attempt to get the bolt back.

       "Well, you wanna fight, you ought to get your chance." T-Bag said as he maneuvered his way around Michael and turned back around to stare at him. "Next count." T-Bag said quietly. Michael and Phoebe shared a panicked look.

       "Tonight?" Michael asked reluctantly. Phoebe thought about how strange it was that it was usually easy for her to tell how Michael was feeling just based on the sound of his voice, or his body language, but to the inmates, he seemed completely calm and collected all the time. Then again, she had spent years by his side.

       "Problem with that?" T-Bag asked mockingly. " 'Cause we're going straight at 'em. You better catch it square, fishes. We're undermanned in a big way." T-Bag said as he turned his head and stared up at C-Note, the men watching each other.

       "All I need's a weapon." Michael tried. The puppy pulled the bolt from his pocket, waving it in between Phoebe and Michael's faces.

       "You want weapons, bitches?" The inmate teased, pulling a popsicle stick from his other pocket and waving it around. "Here you go." He said softly, slipping the stick into Michael's shirt pocket. Phoebe and Michael gave each other an annoyed look.

      "All prisoners return to your cells." An officer instructed through the P.A system in the cell block. The inmates began to move on and into their cells. Just as Michael was about to leave the cell, T-Bag put his arm across the exit, stopping Michael.

       "You gonna have to prove yourselves before we trust you with the heavy artillery, you know what I'm sayin'?" T-Bag informed quietly. Michael turned to look at T-Bag.

       "Just me." Michael said. T-Bag cocked a brow in confusion. "Not her." Michael continued, looking at Phoebe. "I'll fight, but leave her out of it." Phoebe opened her mouth to object but stopped when Michael gave her a warning look. T-Bag laughed.

       "You said you both wanted in. You're both in. You don't get to pick and choose what you do, here." T-Bag said.

       "Gates closing!" The officer said over the P.A. Michael glared at T-Bag, standing still in his spot. Phoebe gulped and reached over to him, grabbing onto his arm.

       "Michael, let's go." She pleaded quietly and desperately, wanting to get away from the man as soon as possible. Michael turned back to face Phoebe, following after her. Phoebe continued to drag Michael up to their cell, just in time for the door to close. Phoebe sighed, releasing her grip on him. "I'm sorry." She said as she sat on the bottom bunk. Michael furrowed his brows.

       "Sorry for what?"

       "For suggesting we search his cell. It was a dumb idea, and I got us into this mess." She said quietly, looking down at her feet and putting her hands in her lap. Michael sighed and sat besides her, putting a hand on hers.

       "It was a good idea, it was just the wrong time." Michael reassured. "We'll be okay. I won't let you get hurt." He said confidently. Phoebe laughed softly.

       "You forget I'm a blackbelt." Phoebe teased. "If anything, I'll be the one protecting you, sir." She said playfully.

       "Whatever you say." He replied and rolled his eyes playfully. Phoebe smiled, turning her hand around in order to intertwine her fingers with Michael's and squeeze his hand.

        "Thank you for keeping me safe." She said with a smile.