(Lincoln)

"May I, ah help you Sir?" Connie managed to pull her eyes from the three buttons worth of bare tanned chest.

The gorgeous man in front of her was smiling as her eyes feasted on. In the three years since his exoneration Lincoln had grown his hair out and that combined with the neat beard kept for the sole purpose of anonymity kept the words, "Aren't you 'the' Lincoln Burrows", at bay. Sure every once in a while someone would recognize him, but those days were growing few and far between, thank God. He just wanted to get on with his life.

His smile widened as his radar went off. She was hot for him. This part should be easy. He leaned forward.

"I'm sure you can help me, ah…Connie", he said his eyes moving quickly over her name plate.

"I'm here on a family matter. I need to speak with the doctor in charge of my sister in laws care. I don't have an appointment, but if you could help me out?"

His eyes danced to her lips and back to her eyes.

Connie blushed and broke eye contact. "Um, I would be happy to assist you in any way possible Mr. um, I'm sorry I didn't get your name…"

Lincoln met her eyes again with his seductive blue ones. "Brian Thomas. And my sister in law's name is Amber Williams."

Connie's brow knitted up for a second at the mention of Amber, and Linc held his breath. But then she smiled at him and bent to the task of pulling up the information on the computer screen in front of her.

"I'll need to see some ID, standard procedure," she said apologetically. "But you're in luck Dr. Fredrickson is still here, and he should be able to see you."

Lincoln fished out his phony ID and passed it through the small opening in the glass partition. She scanned it quickly and passed it back with a smile, her eyes lingering on his for a moment. And then back to business, she put the phone to her ear and made the call to Dr. F's office.

Lincoln's eyes took in the stark white walls and green tile floors as he followed Connie to Dr. Fredrickson's office. She had volunteered to show him the way.

The hall was quiet except for the soft padding of their feet and Linc tried not to notice how much the place seemed like a prison. He took a deep breath and moved along, only then just realizing he was lagging behind. He sped up his pace and caught up to her quickly. Connie, who had stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway, turned to him as he came to stand beside her.

"This is it. Just have Dr. F call down and I'll come fetch you when you're done," she smiled and was turning away when Lincoln reached out a hand.

"Thanks, Connie. I appreciate all of your help in this matter."

Connie blushed, her eyes moving from his hand on her arm and back to his face. Her voice held a breathless quality when she spoke. "It was my pleasure, Mr. Thomas."

And then she was moving down the hall, her small feet moving almost silently.

Linc took another deep breath and laid his fist on the closed door in a firm knock. When a man's voice summoned him in, he turned the knob and made his way in. The man was looking down at some papers on his desk, but when Linc entered he looked up quickly, all business

"What can I do for you Mr. Thomas?"

Lincoln forced a smile.

"I'm here for my sister in law, Amber Williams. I have the paperwork requesting discharge for her transfer with me. And while I know it's late, I would appreciate if we can make this happen. I'm due back in California early tomorrow morning," he said with a glance at his watch.

He felt Dr. Fredrickson's eyes assessing him.

"I'm afraid that will be impossible, Sir." Dr. Fredrickson apologized.

And then Lincoln saw the gun pointed at him.

Dr. Fredrickson stood up, the gun never wavering. "Who are you, really? And don't tell me you're Brian Thomas, because you and I both know you most certainly are not!"

Lincoln tightened his jaw. "Lincoln Burrows."

Linc watched recognition set in as his name and who he was dawned on Dr. Fredrickson. The man's face changed to show his sudden nervousness, and he clutched the gun tighter.

"Turn around and put your hands against the door," his voice shook, but only slightly.

Lincoln didn't budge. "Where is she? Where's Sara Thomas?"

"I don't have to answer your questions Mr. Burrows. Now do as you were told, turn around and put your hands on the door!"

Lincoln took in the silencer fitted barrel. He wasn't sure if the doctor would actually shoot him, but the man was getting fidgety and he didn't want to push his luck.

He turned slowly, placing his hands flat against the door as asked.

A few seconds passed in silence and then he heard the doctor moving closer. The next he knew the butt of the gun was slamming against the back of his head, and a momentary pain followed by darkness engulfed him as he crumpled to the floor.

Dr. Fredrickson leaned to check Lincoln's pulse. Finding it strong and steady he made his way to his desk where he shoved the gun into a drawer and picked up the phone summoning the two nurses on duty. He spoke to James briefly explaining the situation, and then moved to unblock the door. He knew his decision was the right one as he could barely heft Linc's bulk enough to clear the door.

But James and Ed would have no problem lifting their new 'patient', he knew. The nurses would take the sedated man, or at least what they thought to be a sedated man, to a room, and per Dr. F's instructions Lincoln Burrows would be placed in a straight jacket, where he would await his fate.

Dr. Fredrickson shook his head sadly. It looked like two patients would soon be fatally overdosing at Fox Glen Care facility.

(Michael)

Michael watched from his spot in the woods, the large windows allowing an easy view with his high powered binoculars. He could track all of their movements, which so far had been pretty much none.

Dr. Fredrickson had just stood up, but his back was still to the window. He moved slightly and then Michael couldn't see his brother at all. And it wasn't until the doctor approached Lincoln and struck him in the back of the head that Michael saw the gun.

He watched as Lincoln fell unconscious to the floor, his heart pounding as it became obvious that all had gone wrong.

He let the binoculars fall down around his neck and pulled his cell phone from his dark jacket, his steady fingers making the call he had been hoping to avoid.

"It's me. They have him."

He listened as Jane read off the information he had asked her to pull up just in case the need should arise.

He scribbled it down quickly, before ending the call and making his way back through the woods to the car he had parked a short distance away.

He pulled open the car door and stopped, his eyes moving back to the facility. He was reluctant to leave the two people he cared about most, but he knew he had no other choice, other than storming in there again, and he had no reason to think that would work any better than it had the first time.

No, the only thing he could do was what he was doing. And if this didn't work, he didn't know what he was going to do.

Jane had done all that she could, but having severed her ties to the anti-company three years ago, she no longer had any real power. The few favors she had called in had been about the extent of what she could do.

He started the car, and headed for the address she had given him, hastily scrawled in his usually neat handwriting.

He looked once more behind him and pressed his foot to accelerator, the facility fading quickly in the distance.

Traffic was light and less than ten minutes passed before he was arriving at Ingrid's small home. He jumped out and jogged quickly to her door, where he took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. She had to be home. Please let her be home, his mind was fairly chanting by the time she opened the door.

She had opened it only as wide as the chain would allow, but it was enough for him to see her apprehension.

"Ingrid, I need to speak with you please. I want to explain about earlier."

Ingrid went to shut the door, but he stuck out his foot keeping her from pushing it shut.

"Please! Please, I need your help! Something's not right there and you know it. You saw her. Please, just let me explain," he pleaded, his eyes meeting hers.

Ingrid sighed. "I…Okay come in."

Michael breathed a sigh of his own, one of relief, and followed her into the neat living room of her small home.

"I just made coffee if you would like some?"

Michael nodded and followed her into the equally small kitchen. He watched as she poured two cups of coffee and set his down in front of him before meeting his eyes. "Okay, I'm listening."

When he finished speaking he just looked at her. He knew it was a lot to digest, but her willingness to listen quietly had encouraged him to speak freely. He had told her everything, well almost everything. He hadn't gone into his past.

She was studying him now and his suspicions that telling her about Fox River wouldn't be necessary were confirmed by her next words.

"You're 'the' Michael Scofield, aren't you?" She said in awe.

"Yes, but we don't have much time," he reached and took her hands in his.

"Do you think you can get me in there, without anyone knowing?"

Ingrid shook her head. "I don't know. I mean…I… Maybe…come on."

She hopped up from her stool at the breakfast bar and made her way out of the kitchen and to a small room at the back of the house.

"I keep a lot of things stored back here, so excuse the mess," she said as she pushed open the door and pulled a string filling the room with light from the bare bulb in the ceiling.

"I used to be drama teacher, and pack rat that I am, I never throw anything away."

She hefted a box and passed it to him.

"This should have everything we need."

Michael met her eyes in the harsh glare of the light from the bare bulb.

"I don't know how I'll ever thank you for this, Ingrid."

Ingrid raised her eyebrows. "Don't thank me yet, Michael. We haven't gotten you passed Connie's watchful eyes."